


Phaidor: A Novel of Barsoom

by theyMightBeDragons



Category: Barsoom - Edgar Rice Burroughs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 66
Words: 137,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyMightBeDragons/pseuds/theyMightBeDragons
Summary: What happened in the story of John Carter and Phaidor as told from her point of view?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 1





	1. The Plunge

**The Plunge**

The abyss below was fast-approaching and I readied myself for I knew not what. Would I even feel anything? After dropping hundreds of feet I was expecting at any moment to feel or not feel the sudden impact at the end.

But that didn't happen, my first contact with the ground wasn't the expected sudden sharp stop. Instead, by chance or fate, I touched the steep slope of an interior mountain within the chasm. I started tumbling and sliding along the relatively smooth slope of the snow and ice-covered mountainside. Even snow and ice provide more friction than the thin air of Barsoom and so my descent into the chasm slowed. The first thought that entered my mind then was that I couldn't even kill myself without inflicting more pain and suffering, at least this time I was the only one suffering the effects of my decision.

I tumbled about like a tossed bag of refuse, my furs and silks tangled and wrapped themselves around my body and head and prevented the few sharp rocks and chunks of ice encountered in that long slide from doing fatal damage. A sudden sharp but brief pain along my right calf let me know that as I tumbled some parts of me were being exposed to the elements, but it only hurt for a moment and the feeling of warm blood flowing along my calf soon stopped not that I was really aware at this point of what was really happening to me. I didn't notice at the time the shifting slope of the mountainside, the gradual curve of the ground as I encountered the sloughing debris of ages of erosion. Soon all of what was left of my attention was enveloped in the pain of developing bruises all along my shoulders, back, and legs.

I did wonder if there would be another steeper drop at the end of this long slide, I hoped that it would be steep enough to kill me instantly. I had no desire to linger in the cold and the dark for any amount of time. But there was no drop and eventually I was sliding along the horizontal plane at the bottom of the mountain slowing as the forces of gravity pushed me into the ground increasing my friction and slowing my journey. Eventually, my confused brain realized I had stopped moving, no longer being tossed and tumbled about. Still.

In the dim and gloomy light filtering from above, I found myself on my side facing away from the slope, the snow and ice freshly disturbed from my long slide starting to settle around me. Stunned and overwhelmed at this turn of events I felt my body only as a loose collection of aching parts and my mind shied away from what just happened. I lost track of time.

When I again came to, my thoughts were still less than coherent, I think what passed for a night at this latitude must have come and gone while my body and mind tried to sort itself out, my silks and furs had entombed me in a protective and warm embrace and I survived losing consciousness at the bottom of that deep ravine.

My jump from the airship had not gone as I had expected.

As I became more and more aware of myself in the lessening gloom, the sun never quite reaching the spot where I lay due to the looming sides of the deep chasm surrounding me, I opened my eyes on a bleak and monochrome world of gray, snow and ice everywhere.

The fur cushioning my head and covering most of my face blows gently before my eyes and now catches my attention. Focusing on that, the movement and the color are in sharp contrast to the still and monochrome gray of the surrounding landscape. A slight wind runs along the bottom of the ravine sometimes blowing the still setting light snow my slide had kicked into the air far above. But the cold air becomes crystal clear.

Eventually, my eyes shift focus to a darker shape near me and with some effort of will, I study the patterns of shadow and darker shadow until I realize it is a body. The crumpled and broken body of my father's killer. While he was certainly dead when his body went over the side of the flier the state of the heap of bones and broken flesh before me told me he would not have survived the fall if by some miracle my blade had missed his heart.

His body had not had the benefit of a long and relatively gentle slide of ice and snow to break the fall and the resulting damage by the impact only too clearly showed me what fate would have been mine if I hadn't been intercepted by the sloping mountainside.

Still unable to move a muscle my brain and body still overwhelmed by the recent encounters with death and emotional exhaustion, I lay in my heap of furs and silks, my abraded skin and sore body telling me I was lucky to be alive and at the same time asking me if it was worth it being alive. Time passed as the dark shadows at the bottom of the dark ravine deepen as the sun swings near the unseen horizon again, I lay there warm and almost content to just let the cold and ice finish the job I had started with my leap from the deck of the flier.

The light starts to brighten again as the sun never quite sets at this latitude at this time of year. My eyes are seeing but I am still losing focus both mentally and visually. Suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown, I become fully aware. My body is nudging me to take care of it, the bruises and my empty stomach are complaining as is my now full bladder.

My sore muscles needing to move. I finally take an internal assessment and finding that nothing seems to be broken as I tentatively move my legs and arms. They seem to be where they should be and doing what they should be doing without too much pain or difficulty, my head is intact and starting to work again, and I start to think about how to proceed from the situation I now find myself in.

Sitting with my knees drawn up under my chin to retain as much heat as I can I scan the scene before me, the dark fur and broken face of the man I had come to hate above all others stares unseeingly back from his lifeless body not ten yards away.

I notice that my face is getting cold as I shift the hood of the outer cloak to a better position and still fumbling a bit as my muscles clumsily manage to adjust the covering so that only my eyes are exposed, and that is soon taken care of by the transparent visor all hoods have built into them by the Okars. I'm warm enough wrapped in my silks and furs, but again the thought crosses my mind that maybe I should just stay where I am until the cold eventually does the job of removing my life.

Staring at Thurid's contorted face his last expression of hatred and fear stare unseeingly back. His weapons lay scattered around his body where they fell along with him, his silks and furs unable to hide the wreck of his body, I notice that only a little blood has covered the innermost silks nearest his body when all at once I realize my own dagger is beside me where I had dropped it at the end of my slide. The dagger that had killed the man in front of me is covered in his blood. I realized I had the need to clean my dagger on the silks of my enemy. And in that realization, I knew I wanted to live for a while longer.

Leaning back I tilt my head to stare at the lighter sky above me, I wonder why I am still here, why was that slope in just the right place as I jumped? Was there really some other plan for me? Had some providence spared me for a purpose unknown? How had so much changed in the last year? It was only one short year ago that all of this started.

And how had I started out hating a woman so much I would have gladly killed her in a fit of jealous rage and anger to loving her better than any other on the planet?


	2. The Egg

**The Egg**

All barsoomians of the higher orders can remember bits and pieces of the last few days within their shell. We can remember muffled sounds along with light and shadow playing over the interior of our encased world. The thinning shell allowing more and more light and sound to reach us as we begin to become aware.

The brightening light filtering into the shell allows us if only dimly, to see our bodies, our legs, our arms, our torso, our feet, and our hands. We have no words for these. We have only instinct, instinct, and curiosity. The cord that once attached us to the depleted nutrients falling away leaving only a small mark.

Along with a growing curiosity about what the sounds and patterns of light could mean there was a growing need to stretch to exert force. To move. To stand. These become overwhelming and eventually at some unknown trigger, perhaps just the right amount of light or sound reaching us we act. The instinctive need to break the thinning shell.

Using muscles and bone, instinctively applying leverage and power, I push up and out using legs, hands, and braced back to first crack then to completely break the shell that had to that point been my entire world.

As do all children of Barsoom I entered the world verging on adolescence, ready to run without being a burden, ready to survive.

I stand. The fragments of my shell about my feet and legs. Here I first saw the world and the world saw me.

In appearance, I was, I now understand, not much different than any ten-year-old pale-skinned, blonde-haired girl who hailed from the northern climes of the European continent of Jasoom.

As I looked over the massed assembly of beings that greeted me, all except one tilted their heads and looked down at their feet, in unison, then they returned to their normal posture and looked at me, most with a look of awe, wonder, fear, or anticipation. The one nearest me looked at me with speculation and a frank appraisal of my being. He looked at me as if searching for something,

I know now what that something was, and since he didn't find it I was allowed to live. At a signal from the being before me, another who had stood behind me ready to strike moved, in moving he startled me, I had until that point not known someone was standing there with a raised sword ready to strike my head off should a flaw or disfigurement be found. Lucky for me I was flawless.

At the time I had not known how close to death I had been, of course at the time I didn't even know what death was or frankly what life was either.

The man lowered his sword, an instrument I did not yet know what it was or what it was used for. Of course, I was to find out as my education commenced a few days later.

I stood revealed to the awaiting assembly of beings. Beings who mostly looked like larger versions of myself in general shape and appearance. But, in looking around, I noticed that I was different than everyone in that theater.

For theater it was, I was standing on a raised platform with the one nearest me, the one who had not looked at his feet. And the one who had been behind me but now was standing to the side of the platform near a steep ramp leading down to the floor.

At the time I had no concept of what was happening, nor did I have words for the things and beings I beheld for the first time. The wordless language of our thoughts cannot be conveyed to you except through words and so that experience can never really be communicated. And over time comes to be beyond even our own thoughts and memories. How do you truly remember the experience of not knowing anything not even having words for things and then communicate what that was like, but only through words? How can you be sure once you have been taught a language what it was like to not have one?

I stood there taking it all in, noticing the differences and similarities of the beings before me, beings who, resembled myself, about half had hair of golden hues, most of them had long hair but a few had shorter. These same beings were those without the extra appendage between their legs, but they did have two protuberances on their chests that those with the appendage did not have.

Those with the appendage had no hair at all. I looked down and I didn't have one of those appendages but neither did I have the soft-looking protuberances on my chest. I did have hair.

I resembled one set of beings in one aspect and the other set in a different aspect. One set of beings I only lacked the appendage and I had hair, the other set of beings I only lacked the soft protuberances high on their torsos.

In my wordless experience, I found none like me.

I now wonder if the males found in the same situation had a totally different experience in those first moments of life. Did they, finding that at least half the assembled looked like larger versions of themselves have a feeling of belonging? In some way that they had a natural connection with those assembled to witness their hatching.

But I, and all the other females, found ourselves resembling both and neither, if that caused some sort of yearning to be awakened, a yearning to belong, to find our own kind, not realizing that we were already there.

Here I must stop and explain something, all of the beings present were without any ornaments, harness, silk, or fur, all were as naked as was I at my hatching. This was something of a ceremony, a tradition of the thern. I was soon to find that the normal attire was made of ornaments of precious metals inlaid with stones and gems along with a practical harness to which were attached the tools of one's rank and station. The warriors had swords and pistol, the scribes pots, pens, and tables, others had various instruments for mysterious purposes, most of those even now I do not know. The thern are in general a fashionable lot, with brightly colored silks and cloth draped about them and a vast array of jewels and metals decorating their harness and headbands, for most, men and women held their hair in place with leather or metal headbands. For the men, this helped hold their wig in place, for the women it kept their hair out of their face as they went about their daily lives. The higher the rank of an individual the more ornate and precious the headband. Some might call these things crowns and in the case of the Holy Thern, those of the tenth cycle, that included the most precious jewel on all of Barsoom as it was mined only in the mountains surrounding our realm.

With me standing there under the watchful eyes of the assembled, not knowing what to do, but somehow captured by their stares, feeling that I was to stay where I was to not move a muscle. Some instinct to freeze and hope they would lose interest in me.

The one before me turned to face the others and then sounds seemed to come out of him and everyone looked to him, relieving the pressure on me, a pressure I hadn't noticed until it was gone.

Then the assembled opened their mouths and sounds came from them, I without knowing why or how, opened my mouth and imitated the loud sound, a sound that I now know was cheering, I had cheered my own hatching, and at that several in the audience started laughing.

I stood there revealed to the world I was to become part of, to eventually come to think of as mine. At the time, I didn't know how lucky I was, or maybe unlucky. Instead of a swift unexpected blow by an expert swordsman that would take my head off, I was greeted by cheers.


	3. The Dressing Room

**The Dressing Room**

It was on my exit from the theater into a room full of cubby holes in the walls that I first saw the normal attire of my people.

The first action taken by almost every male present was to place his wig of long golden hair on his head and firmly secure it in place with the circlet or headband settled around the crown of his head.

Everyone then slipped into their harness, usually made of leather, highly ornamented, and in many cases reflecting light from the many-faceted jewels encrusting the garment. But, there were a few whose harness was a plain heavy woven material. This I learned later was made of the hair of the great white apes which roamed the valley below our cities and temples and was reserved for those who served in the inner sanctums where the messages of the goddess Issus mysteriously appeared from time to time.

Then silks dyed in various beautiful colors and ornaments were hung about the harness. Next were attached weapons, tools, and pouches to carry everyday items.

I alone still stood as naked as the moment of my hatching, there were none my age present. Only the highest-ranking of our society was permitted to watch the hatching of the holy family.

Of course, at the time I knew nothing, everything was a wonder, I had no names for the things I saw, nor did I have any concepts of rank, power, or position.

I do remember wondering when I would get to hang things off my body in order to look like a shining gleaming being clothed in light.

As I watched I saw that there were those whose circlet about their heads bore the most brilliant jewel present, each one faceting the light in a multicolored rainbow about the room. None of the women wore this jewel and only a very few of the men. Without exception, this jewel was set into the front of the precious metal encircling their head. No matter the rest of the attire, that jewel alone sets them apart cloaking them in a shower of light. These I saw were intently observing me with speculative looks on their faces. I knew nothing of the meaning of that look then, but I was very soon to find out.

It was the next chamber that I saw beings materially different than myself and those who had witnessed my hatching.


	4. The Anteroom

** The Anteroom **

The man, who had stood on the stage facing me and judging me and who I now call father, and I were the first to leave the dressing room.

Upon entering the small adjoining room, I found it to be occupied by four beings. Four astonishing beings.

A beautiful thern woman dressed in fine silks and brilliant ornaments. A woman of a markedly darker and reddish color with dark brown hair and rich golden-brown eyes and the two plainly garbed but heavily armed and armored women flanking her.

The red woman was without jewels or fancy harness, she was dressed plainly, she carried only one colorful silk draped over her arm as if it were not part of her dress but being held for someone else. Even without the aid of fine garments and colorful jewels or precious metals, and despite the scars evident about her body, she seemed to radiate an indefinable and undeniable beauty and grace.

The two large and menacing thern women on either side of her were only marginally better ornamented, their golden hair braided and wrapped around their necks to better protect that vulnerable target. I was to learn the few ornaments present were badges of rank and organizational unit designations.

The beautiful thern woman approached me, and lowering her head to my height, she looked me in the eye. 

She, I learned later, was my mother, the one who had laid my egg and from whom I received half my natural attributes. In every respect, she resembled the rest of my race. Only her immediate and unfathomable to me connection to me held my attention.

As I stood transfixed by my mother’s eyes, the red woman took the colorful silk from her arm, slid behind me, and with a gentle touch, draped the richly colored cloth over my shoulders. She then took one end, crossed it in front of my body to drop it over the opposite shoulder. She was being careful not to touch me, my mother, or have her arm or the silk block the eye contact being held between my mother and me.

By accident or planning, the variegated shades of blue and green mostly combining to a dark rich shade of teal matched the heterochromia colors present in my eyes, which from a distance took on that dark teal color. It only took one look at my mother to determine the multicolored silk's inspiration.

I saw the same colors reflected in her eyes and immediately felt a profound connection to the woman. 

She had not been present at my birth, as her rank was just below that required to be there. The fact that she was my mother made no difference to my father or those that controlled such things.

My mother had been selected for her beauty and her intelligence and little else.

The later trait prized only in that she would be suitable to hatch either an intelligent and suitable son to succeed Matai Shang if he should die before hatching a daughter or baring that, as in this particular instance, a daughter that would pass along that intelligence to the next Hekkador.

Eventually, my mother broke eye contact with me and looking up and behind me, she made eye contact with the red woman standing there. It seemed to me even then, there was some message passed between the two. Something that only the two of them were privy to.

The room was much smaller than the dressing room. Most of the audience at my hatching was now filing through without stopping to look at my father or me. The two guards took position on either side of the small party made up of my mother, my father, the red slave, the two guards, and myself. My father was in front, I stood at his right shoulder and a half step behind. My mother was a full step behind me, and the red slave stood against the wall centered between the two guards who kept a watchful eye on all who were now walking past.

The last to pass through the small room and the only ones who stopped briefly to greet the Hekkador and me were those wearing the rainbow jewels. These bowed to my father and looked at me with speculation. I found as I recalled their look later that speculation had a touch of covetousness about it.


	5. With My Mother

**With My Mother**

My mother’s name is Yentam Ack. Her family is just below the highest order of priests, her father is of the Eighth Cycle and so just below the Ninth and Tenth that make up the upper hierarchy of the religion. In time, her family might be elevated to the ninth cycle, but only if a family of the tenth or ninth died out.

There was no doubt in most people’s minds that Yentam Ack was the most beautiful of the higher therns, and it was said by many of the entire thern race.

But beauty was not her most outstanding trait, her mind was sharp, much sharper than most gave her credit for. In negotiating the one-year joining that produced me she had known Matai Shang’s goal was to keep the child near him, and in doing so control their child’s education.

Before my hatching, Yentam Ack was hoping for a boy as she knew he had a better chance of living past the first day. Only a perfect girl was to be preserved and the chance of perfection was always slim.

The usual custom during my father's time as Holy Hekkador was that his female offspring were destroyed at hatching. Unlike many other hatching ceremonies that had happened over the long life of my father mine at least held the potential of a female living. The part where I was destroyed if I were female, had been replaced with the ceremony to inspect, and if found worthy welcomed as the mother of the next Holy Hekkador.

My only purpose in life was to transmit the line of succession to my offspring via my mating with the best available Holy Thern.

That a female was to have a chance at all was unusual for Matai Shang. But the very recent disaster that had almost befallen the planet when the atmosphere factory had shut down had prompted his desire to have a conduit to the future. A future Matai Shang planned to leave to someone else as he now considered it was near time to make his long journey down the corridor that leads to the Temple of Issus in the promised paradise of the thern.

The Valley Dor had experienced some of the effects of the disaster and only by moving into the tunnels and warrens below the temples on the cliffs had most survived. But what was discovered was that the corridor that leads to paradise, to the temple of Issus was always providing fresh air to the tunnels. It was surmised that the temple must have its only atmosphere plant or was the actual source of the manufactured gases that sustained life on the planet. Why not, it was after all the source of all knowledge and life on the planet.

So here I was, alive and by my father’s estimate, perfect.

My first months out of the shell were with my mother and her slave. The slave that was to figure most prominently in my first five years of life. I calculated later that it couldn’t have been more than one hundred and eighty days that I lived with them both.

Typically, in thern culture, these joining contracts stipulate that the offspring, if there are any, live with or near their mother for the first four of five years. Then, finding their place in society, they leave her to live alone.

However, my parents’ contract stipulated that I was to remain near him.

My mother was fine with the arrangement and it made sense to her since my goal in life was not to grow and discover what I was good at, what I would make a career of, and then do that. My goal was set before my conception. That goal was tied to my father and his plans for the thern holy family succession.

My mother had joined my father for that year for the sole purpose of obtaining the funds and the backing to build and staff the observatory that she wanted to be built. She willingly signed away her rights to me in order to achieve that goal.

Of particular interest to her was the teaming life on Jasoom. There was evidence that they were on the verge of making many of the discoveries that were now forgotten on Barsoom. The time of oceans was so long ago here, but it was still present on Jasoom. Would they too destroy their planet over time, would they too drive their atmosphere to ruin? Spoil their oceans before they boiled off into space? Was that a pattern all planets with intelligent life passed through? Were we always doomed to be victims of our own cleverness? These questions hounded her and were the subjects of some of her research. She considered laying an egg a small price to pay.

My father wanting no split loyalties had stipulated in the contract that once their time together was over at the end of the year she would never again contact me. At the time that was entirely satisfactory with my mother.

I don’t think my mother knew at the time of signing the contract that she would, much less could, come to care for any progeny produced from the mating. She had always viewed her life as one of the mind and had not really been concerned or even desirous of physical contact or what some chose to call love or affection.

She was the epitome of the thern ethos of unattached devotion. But instead of the religion of Issus as with most thern, her devotion was to science.

Of these months I have some clear memories, but many more are hidden amidst confusion and my own emotions.

If I could remember exactly the conversations around me during this time I would tell you, but as my language skills were still in development and my memory of what was said is faulty I feel unable to faithfully report these. However, I will do my best. I am only left with doubt, sadness, fear, anger, and a longing for my mother that has never been satiated. This seems odd to me since I clearly remember my hatching and all that transpired that day, but the next half year is a blur.

We lived in the great temple complex of the hekkador, we had our own suite of apartments and workrooms. I had my mother and her slave as companions and a few slaves provided by my father.

The slaves provided by my father had a habit of being rejected by my mother. I now suspect mother and her personal slave might have come to be suspicious of them, believing they were spies reporting back to my father. Looking back at conversations and hints dropped by Slave over the early years of my life I think they feared my father was looking for ways to accuse her of non-compliance with the contract-of-joining and through that a way to not honor his commitment to building, staffing and supporting my mother’s observatory.

As I became more familiar with my surroundings and the people, I, being inquisitive, asked questions of everyone about anything and everything that popped into my head.

The one exception was my father. On his few visits he pointedly ignored my need for information. His anger was evident on each visit.

Eventually, his anger at being accosted by one barely out of her shell for information about the insignificant topics such a youth had a need to know of was a waste of his time and not to be born.

Within my hearing, he told my mother to curb my thirst for knowledge before she left. He did not want to deal with my education, and I was in existence for one reason only and that reason had nothing to do with educating me or providing more than a basic knowledge of good behavior.

In his court, good behavior began and ended with no one asking him questions. If he wanted people to know something, he would tell them when the time was right, and he deemed they were fit to know it.

I think it came as a surprise to her that as the time neared to leave me, she became, to her, unaccountably sad. She couldn’t understand the emotions around the bond that had formed between us in those short months.

Her slave on the other hand seemed to understand completely.

My mother would have taken me with her but that was not the agreement in the contract. I was left behind as with many forbidden tears streaking my mother’s face she embraced me for the last time.

Her research would be studying the stars and other planets orbiting the sun. But she told me she would be on the highest peak of the barrier mountains watching over me as well as she could from there.

She would never be allowed to visit me again.

I stood there at the doorway to our suite watching her go feeling like my world was ending. Slave stood just behind me, a presence.

You may wonder why I only refer to mother’s slave as Slave, that was due to a clause in the joining contract of my parents’, I was never to know her name, where she came from, or what she might have been before she entered the Valley Dor. What I also didn’t know at the time was that on my mother’s leaving she was to become mine.

So, there we were, Slave and me. Watching the joy of our lives walk away.


	6. Settling In & Starting Out

**Settling In & Starting Out**

In my parents' contract, my staying with my father instead of my mother was spelled out clearly.

Not only that, I would never see her again.

She was sequestered in her newly built observatory on the highest peak of the barrier mountains surrounding the Valley Dor. That peak was some hundred haads away, but it might as well have been at the north pole. 

However, he did not exactly keep me with him either.

I was assigned my own temple. Only being about three months old my household included my mother’s slave, who was now my slave, the slaves that were given me by my father during my mother’s time with us, and a few more added by him as I moved into the separate temple complex near his but not part of the massive set of buildings making up his own temple compound.

I was assigned a guard attachment, but unlike many, this guard contained an utan that was principally composed of women. Large, imposing women, but women none the less. They were of the lower thern castes and not allowed to speak unless spoken to.

There were another two utan that were drawn from my father's own units. They patrolled the perimeter and would by my first line of defense.

The guard company of all women was stationed nearest me. Thus, if any were to attack my temple, they would first have to overcome the larger guard elements on the periphery of the temple before meeting my women nearer my chambers at the center of the temple.

Guards were required as the thern are chronically raided by the black pirates descending from the moon Thuria to take our women and sometimes our slaves.

So, unlike other young thern who usually resided with their mothers and only occasionally were visited by their fathers, my father kept me close to him, dedicating a temple and resources to keep me safe. Safe and ignorant.

As for me, I spent my days pampered and untaxed in any official capacity. My sole purpose was to produce an egg at a time and with a partner selected by my father. That potential egg did not require that I be educated.

Due to tradition, the one place where my father could not legitimately deny me an education was the required training in our religion.

This he tended to by ordering me to attend religious services and to receive the religious training all thern must go through.

In some part, I think he did this for appearance's sake. I now think that given his own wishes in this matter, he would have been as happy to keep me pinned in my temple and forgotten about until time to produce an egg or eggs in search of the next hekkador.

I found the religious training to be a great diversion from my usual existence, and I got to ask the instructors questions which they felt duty-bound to answer, me being the daughter of the hekkador after all. One I was most curious about was how we knew the pirates that raided us were from Thuria, the moon that hurled itself through the sky several times a day.

They answered that it could only be from somewhere off-planet as these pirates could not come from anywhere on Barsoom. We knew this as we had temples and spies in all lands, even in the land of the Okars at the opposite pole of the planet. That it was Thuria was mostly accepted by common knowledge, not only among the thern but all the other races of Barsoom.

One, a younger instructor, put forth the idea that the gods of Barsoom could not be the victims of any on the planet. The raiders must come from another planet altogether. Otherwise, how could we claim to be gods?

Here I got more than religious education, Okars? Other races? Spies in the lands? Who, what, where, how many? I asked and asked and got more geography lessons from the religious classes than I think my father realized.

At home, instead of my mother, I now had several slaves. Slaves whose outside names I was never told, as they were forbidden on-the-pain-of-death from telling me or using their names within my hearing.

I was told by my father repeatedly that the slaves had no names, no homes, that they existed only to serve me.

All of them were to answer to the name 'Slave', the nearest to me at the time of utterance was the one indicated as they were to be totally interchangeable in my life. None to be an individual or have any distinguishing significance to me.

Several times my slaves were instructed in front of me that no stories of their past nor home were to be tolerated least they lead to intimacy or some sort of affection between us. I was required to be present during these instructions. I think to receive the same message. That my slaves were only slaves. That they were nothing.

However, in time, I came to hear in that message that not only was I vastly superior to the slaves, but that I was unworthy of affection, not even that of the lowest slave.

The slaves were tasked with improving my language skills and teaching me basic social graces. The guards were tasked with keeping me safe.

No matter the instructions that were given, it is impossible to not distinguish one individual from the next. With beings that can talk, think, smile, fart, and sneeze, one cannot help but notice differences.

In some respects, the exception was my own personal slave that had been given to me by my mother. She was mine. She had been written into the contract as belonging solely to me. She was by the contract to remain with me as long as either of us should live, and she was exempt from being selected to serve as a sacrifice. She was safe from plant-man, white ape, and the butcher.

She tended to stay closer to me than all the others. I found her presence oddly comforting, almost a continuation of my mother’s presence. I didn't attribute any attachment to me on her part as she took on most of the most menial duties.

For a time, I watched my slave as she went about her duties, taking care of my needs such as feeding me and cleaning me up after the usual expulsion of waste products of a living being, these she tended to herself and not asking any of the others to do what she would not.

She trained me in how to take care of myself, to behave in a civilized manner, to use the facilities provided for waste management. She still took care of bathing me, drying me, dressing me, brushing my hair.

All the things a servant was expected to do for their master. Or I realized in retrospect all the things a mother would do for their own child.

She tended me when I fell and scraped a knee or elbow, the one who soothed the emotions of a confused and frightened being who had only recently lost her mother.

The one who seemed to understand more than she said and took on more than was expected.

Oh, she didn't always do this alone, and sometimes when she knew spies were about the temple, she might not join those tending me. But she was there more often than not.

In the beginning, my slaves were not to say my name if they knew it. This practice was thought to encourage an improper attachment by them to me. But my own slave secretly called me Demah. So, I had a name. It just wasn't the one my father had given me.

My red woman of an outside nation was of extraordinary beauty and grace. Her looks were in no way disfigured by the many scars on her body. Her scars, as I was to learn, had been caused by wounds received in battle. She held herself with dignity even when occupied with the most demeaning of labor. The other slaves tended to obey her without thought or question. I think not even noticing that they automatically assumed she had the authority to do so. Even my guards, especially the lowest in rank, tend to obey her instructions too.

From her bearing and manner, I knew she must have been from some royal court or another.


	7. My First Year Out of the Egg

### My First Year Out of the Egg

I was a virtual prisoner in my own temple.

My father kept a tight hold of my whereabouts. I was allowed in my gardens with my slaves and armed guards. I was allowed to wander as I pleased in the upper city, with my slaves and my armed guards. I was allowed visitors of my own, as long as my slaves and armed guards were always to hand, and those visitors were approved in advance. But how could I meet anyone to invite?

My excursions into the populous were carefully orchestrated, none but my own slaves and guards near me. I was much later to learn that even on these outings, I was only meeting the few my father intended me to meet.

Those that I met were usually Therns of the Tenth Cycle and their friends. In all that time, there was never a chance encounter or a truly casual conversation. But that was hidden from me. I thought I was the master of my domain.

I spent my evenings in my gardens, sometimes observing those in the public unseen. The walls of my gardens were decoratively carved fine latticework in various intricate patterns through which I could see out. But, none but could see in unless they stood just the other side of the wall with an eye to an opening. And none were allowed to get that close to the wall.

Through those walls, I watched with envious eyes the few other young people as they visited and ran freely among the public gardens nearby, not a slave or guard in sight.


	8. My Second Year Out of the Egg

### My Second Year Out of the Egg

As I became older what education my father provided was all of a religious variety.

From him, I learned of the Thern's divine right to be masters of the planet. A planet entrusted to us by the goddess Issus herself.

Through her messages mysteriously delivered to our most sacred alters we learned that the Thern were her high priests, her emissaries to the world. And my father ruled the Thern in her name.

The Thern were the gods of the world, all others existed only to serve us and through us the goddess Issus.

A proper Thern viewed all others as a lower order of beings, to view even the slaves who served us as nothing more than animals that could be used as labor; or to be slaughtered, drained of blood by the plant-men purifying their flesh, and consumed as food.

I again learned of the temples scattered about the planet, about the religion they taught. That it echoed the true religion of the thern was not an accident, but the true religion was only for the thern.

The red, green, and yellow races were promised the paradise of the thern. But of course, they were denied it. Their sacrifice to the thern was holy and allowed the thern to thrive and eventually achieve the promised peace in the heaven reserved for the thern alone.

On all other matters, curiosity was taking a firm hold of me. I started finding ways around the instructions of my father, finding ways to gather information outside the mandates of his control.

I would sneak up on my guards to listen to their conversation. Even though they were not allowed to speak to me unless I spoke to them first, that didn't keep them from gossiping among themselves when they thought their charge was occupied or unaware of their presence and I learned much from them even before I purposefully took pains in asking them questions to obtain a working knowledge of my father's court.

Also, I learned things by pestering those slaves that I knew had the least resistance to my charms or position. Those who obeyed me when I asked direct questions about the others and about any subject that I became curious about. I noticed that the answers given tended to vary depending on the audience.

I also noticed that one of the slaves that had been most helpful to me disappeared never to be seen again.

When I asked my personal slave in private, she whispered that she had been taken for sacrifice, that she had been found to be breaking the hekkador’s rules about educating me. This took me by surprise. From then on, I tried to become more aware of who was around, the behavior of the trusted slaves became my guide when new slaves or guards were introduced to my household.

I started making sure that only those the slaves felt comfortable around were present when I pressed for answers or information and so my education continued, but in the back of my mind the sacrificed slave would be remembered and I vowed not to lose any more of my best sources of information to carelessness.

There were things the slaves never talked about. Where exactly they were from and who they were to their people. Nor did the slaves tend to know where any of the others came from. True to the orders of my father they never talked to each other about the specifics of their lives. But, some knew enough of the others that I learned tantalizing bits of information about each. They sometimes speculated about where some of them came from by their bearing, speech pattern, or behavior.

They never talked about their own people.

Their people, who all thought them in paradise with their loved ones.

Their people, who would now put them to death for returning from paradise if any of them should escape their servitude.

I think it might have been too hard to talk about how utterly disappointed those few who survived the plant-men and the white apes were at the reality of their promised paradise.

It was, of course, their own fault for believing such tales of a religion whose only purpose was to lure the labor and sustenance of the lower orders to serve the true gods of Barsoom, the thern.

By those teachings, the only true paradise was that promised to the Thern, and that paradise was just through a corridor and a door at the end to enter the Temple of Issus. A temple we thern could see shining in the sun on the other side of the depression where our cities and temples lay.

It was toward the end of my second year out of the egg, what on Jasoom might be in appearance and experience about fourteen, Slave took a real interest in furthering my education.

She used the fact that my father hadn't been definite on where the line of basic religious education lay that she taught me many things, things I suspect my father didn't wish me to know.

To this end, she enlisted those most trusted of the slaves and guards to teach me. She found those most educated in language, science, and the arts. Each of these became my tutors in those fields. She herself was the one most knowledgeable in biology, so she was my tutor in anatomy, botany, and the processes of the living planet.

As for exercise and self-defense, she found those among the guards willing to teach me a rudimentary knowledge of pistol and sword. And others among then that taught me unarmed combat, things I could do to break a hold or break a knee.

In art and culture, my lessons never strayed from the thern civilization. In this training, Slave knew I was to live my whole life here; any special knowledge of the outside world would draw suspicion to me, and through me, to them.

She made sure my lessons were performed only in the presence of the most loyal guards and slaves. When she needed to talk to the guards about me to arrange these secret classes, they started using her pet name for me, they discussed Demah's education, they discussed Demah's swordplay, anyone listening in would not suspect that Demah was me.

Any time I became curious about something, I would first ask Slave. If she didn't know the answer, she would direct me to one of the officers of my guard that she knew could be trusted with the knowledge that I was being educated beyond the intent of my father. Once given permission to speak, these guards provided an education in politics and information on the situations within the temples and in the world.

These red women took care of me as a mother would; they fed me, they trained me, they picked me up when I fell, and they encouraged me to be my best self.

In this, they were alone. At least for the first two years of my life.


	9. My Third Year Out of the Egg

### My Third Year Out of the Egg

When I started maturing at the beginning of my third year my father noticed and became even more controlling of my whereabouts and my itinerary. It seemed as if by some unknown and unknowable sense he could see the – itch – that had recently impinged on my awareness. An itch that was almost always present but easily controlled. However, my evening entertainment of watching the young men play at war on the other side of my wall had taken on new interest. Especially when viewing the wrestling matches.

Now, I was also put on display. Always prominently placed during public events, entertainments, and religious ceremonies. Somehow as if my appearance would ensure favorable behavior from the highest-ranking Therns of the Tenth Cycle.

But aside from my religious education and appreciation for my physical beauty, he showed no interest in me.

What I did, what I thought, were of no importance to him.

I do not remember my father ever expressing a softer sentiment towards me. He did praise me when I could recite the dogma of our religion from memory. He did praise my appearance as I grew in stature and strength.

But any question I had was met with disapproval. By his reasoning, I should have already known the answer since the answer was so obvious. Obvious to him maybe. Conversely, it was possible that the answer was beyond my childish knowing and it would take years for me to understand and so was unnecessary for my role in life.

Nor did he take any interest in what I was doing, what my favorite pastimes were, what I might want to do outside of mating to a selected Holy Thern of the Tenth Cycle, and laying an egg that might eventually become the next Holy Hekkador. At a time and place and with whom of his choosing.

On the few times I expressed an opinion, especially one that differed from his in the least, he told me he was the Holy Hekkador, that his was the only opinion that mattered.

My job was to watch, listen, to respond to his instruction exactly as he wanted. After that I was never to ask questions or express an opinion, he would let me know what I needed to know and what I needed to think, anything else was a waste of his time.

The rest of the time my father was keeping me secluded at my temple with an increased contingent of temple guards of mixed genders on the perimeter, those I had always had as my inner guard of warrior women at the center of my defense were still with me.

Now, only rarely did I venture out of the confines of my temple into the world of thern society on my own. On my own being in the company of my slaves and my guards.

However, I was compelled to attend the gatherings where dancing or socializing was to be found among the higher-ranked. These were fun and exciting; it was not the company or conversations that excited me as these were tepid and uninteresting. Only the dancing held great joy.

The special events hosted by my father were where every one of the Thern of the Tenth Cycle was invited. I think if he could, he would have barred me from those, but the customs of a people are as binding on the ruler as on the slave, at least in this case. There might have been an outright rebellion of the highest-ranking masters of the religion if I had been hidden away.

I could see that many a Thern of the Tenth Cycle had an eye on me with looks of speculation in their eyes. Each wondering if they would be chosen by my father to mate with me to produce the next hekkador. It would be an increase of status for any one of them to father the next hekkador, but that itch did not respond to any of them, if possible it would have me run away from them as fast as I could. It was at these ceremonial events that I truly mixed with my potential suitors, a future one-year mate. All the Therns of the Tenth Cycle were of course vastly older than me and the thought of one day being joined to any one of them was unsettling. But it was what I was hatched to do. I must somehow find a way to fulfill my duty to my father and my religion.

It wasn’t that physical contact in itself was off-putting. There were a few of the lesser therns I had observed who might be fun recreation, but father strictly kept me from exploring these pleasures every other maid of the thern had by my age sampled. I had ample evidence of that from my evening observation of couples that sometimes thought they were hidden from view among the flowering plants just the other side of my wall. A few of the young men were definitely pleasing to the eye.

I hoped that my eventually selected mate would not be too insufferable during the required one-year commitment. And I fervently hoped that I produced a suitable egg on the first mating and that no other mating would be needed among that limited pool of potential matches.

One secret fear I had was that if I produced a daughter, would she be destroyed as had all my sisters before me? Or would my father honor custom and law and allow the holy lineage to once again flourish?

I had heard from Slave that in the outside world men and women tended to commit themselves in a ceremony to each other for their lifetimes. She stated that one of the principal reasons for this commitment was love. I understood this to be a form of passion and passion I understood, the need to touch and be touched. Any attractive man would do for this, and while some would need another woman, and some didn’t make a distinction between the genders of their partner at all. I wanted a man, but my father controlled my access to such things.

The other purpose of these couplings In thern society, that is adding to the pool of warriors and potential religious scholars, spies, and priests was dealt with very dispassionately. 

Say there was a need for more warriors, then arrangements were made to facilitate meetings between the strongest and fasted men and women.

If it was only pleasure, then any man could ask any woman of an equal or lower cast to provide the pleasure wanted. Sometimes there were the usual one-year unions but often for the lower-ranked therns they dispensed with the formalities. For women it was a little different, a woman could demand pleasure of any of a caste lower but she couldn't allow any possible offspring of such an encounter to survive as an heir, usually, any egg that resulted was destroyed immediately. Unless it was determined that the result would produce an exceptionally good warrior, in that case, the warriors would tend the egg and the training of the resulting child. The woman never again would knowingly see the resulting man. If the egg hatched a female, she was usually recruited into the cadre of female guards used in my court and a few others.

The lifelong commitment of the lesser races seemed to me to be entirely impractical, especially when a lifetime could be a thousand years. In the end, my understanding from the slaves was that there were few who made it to anywhere near a thousand years. Due to the deaths from accident and warfare being much more common than old age most seemed to make it to about three hundred before one of many causes of death took them. But even so, three hundred years was a very long time. and in the outside world, the promise of a peaceful paradise at the end of the journey on the River Iss was enough to entice many long before they reached an advanced age. The other weakness in this marriage idea was that many took the journey on the River Iss prompted by the death of their spouse as they termed the person they had married. They hoped to be rejoined with them in paradise.

They were foolish to believe such things, only the thern had hope of a paradise and that in the bosom of the goddess Issus in her holy temple. But without their sacrifice, the therns couldn't survive and so they did provide the slaves and the majority of the sustenance of the thern race. As cattle, they came to serve their greatest purpose. The continuance of the great race of therns the pinnacle of the tree of life.

At large ceremonial or religious events, the reserved seating for the Holy Hekkador now included me in the party. I was visible to the people, but I was not part of them. Access to the Holy Hekkador was controlled and so access to me was controlled as well.

Entertainment at the arena was usually some sort of blood sport. Sometimes slaves dueling to the death, or maybe banths that roamed the lower caverns used to execute criminals or slaves that had outlived their usefulness and were not fit to be offered to the plant-men. A few of the slaves there were who were to be executed for some transgression against their master, usually to show other slaves in their house what would happen to them if they followed the example of the condemned.

I remember sometime during my third year, somewhere equivalent to around fifteen or sixteen years old for a Jasoomian, one slave from the house of Sator Throg was to be executed for crimes in the household.

She was beautiful but displayed many bruises and contusions. At the sight of her, one of my slaves whispered to another that she was grateful to be in the service of a young woman and not that of a man. Especially a man like that. Her companion whispered back that she recognized the woman, a princess, and that it was no wonder she fought her attacker. She was trained all her life to resist unwanted, and for her city dangerous, sexual encounters.

We were all amazed when the banths, released to maim, kill, and consume the slave were instead turned into purring docile pets.

When the guards entered the arena to finish the job they were met with a wall of banths. More than one guard lost his life before Sator Throg seeing an opportunity for gold in his pocket rescinded his death sentence on the woman.

Many other evenings I spent in my garden watching as the young men, still without wigs, as they were not yet mature enough or deserving of the distinction sparred and practiced with their dull blades or swords of wood. Some of the girls practiced with them.

I wanted to test myself against them, but I was forbidden from leaving my secluded garden to engage in such dangerous activity on my own.

If only my father knew my loyal guards and occasionally my slaves were training me in the rudiments. I wanted to try out all they were teaching me and to have an opponent who was not two or three times my size. It might be more fun.

I had no friends, none my age to bond with, to share experiences and life with. I didn't think much of it at the time, my unique position within society meant I had no equals, nor even near equals.

My slaves and guards were my only real support. But all the while they cared for me I was also trained to view the slaves as nothing more than slightly advanced beasts and the guards as among the lowest in our society and not worth my consideration.

The year passed and I continued to gain stature and coordination, my practice with dull blades sometimes produced unsightly bruises on my fair skin. These Slave covered with cosmetics until they healed.

Once, while I was in my bath with Slave towards the end of my third year I became curious. Maybe I could get a few more clues or bits of information out of her about where she came from, who her people were, why she had taken the journey down the River Iss.

"Tell me, what does Demah mean, why did you choose that to call me?"

Smiling with what seemed some fondness, "It is a word from and ancient language that died out at the end of the time of oceans. It means 'my second'."

As she worked on my hair or soaped my arms and legs, I studied her many scars, most of them faint and in no way marring the obvious beauty of the woman.

There were several scars about her torso, being curious as I seemed now to have a need to understand the woman.

“How did you get these scars,” I asked as I traced the outline of the most prominent along her abdomen.

She just smiled and said "That is a story I am expressly forbidden to tell, both by your mother and your father. But you know that you were there that last time he mentioned it."

She said this quietly, gently, as she smoothed my long hair along my back. Standing there in the bath, my height now almost the same as hers the motion was almost a caress of my shoulders, and a feeling of security swept over me.

Something odd happened at that touch, I could feel the want to tell me in that touch. I could feel the sorrow the question had caused. I knew that those scars were among the reasons she had taken the journey down the River Iss.

In that touch, a flicker of what the name Demah truly meant to her was transmitted to me. This was my first time experiencing the instinctive empathy or telepathy of the red and green races of Barsoom. We thern are at best only rudimentary in its uses. Unlike most other races of Barsoom, we cannot use the shortcuts in the language provided by mentally projecting images or emotions.

It was just after that conversation, or lack of one that she started including the application of makeup as part of my getting dressed, all the while she subtly told me the process and steps so that eventually when needed I could do it myself. I think she enjoyed the time we spent with me sitting there as my face was transformed. I didn’t really understand the power of the process until one day I saw my mother starting to look back at me from the mirror.

Slave, quickly dabbed the tear that formed at the sight and laying a hand on my shoulder I could feel the understanding and compassion of what had just happened.

She quickly took her hand away when she realized what she had done instinctively.

Over time, I relied on my slaves and my guard officers as a sort of personal court, an office of a princess of the realm. The very thing my father did not want to happen.

By mutual unspoken agreement, we kept this situation away from the ears of the servants who were obvious spies for the Holy Hekkador and the guard took care of any within their ranks that might inform on the hekkador's daughter to her father. There were surprisingly few training accidents, but they almost always seemed to happen to the spies within the ranks of the guard.

The fact that their natural inclination was loyalty to one of their own sex, one they saw as being kept purposefully ignorant, almost as a young thoat being bred to be slaughtered at some future date sealed their loyalty to me.

Of course, at the time I was totally unaware of their affection for me or most of the machinations surrounding my existence. I grew as most princesses do, to be selfish, unfeeling, and uncaring of those about them, especially those who are tasked with their care and guidance. Only in hindsight can I see some of what they accomplished in raising me.

In this, I do not think princesses have a corner on the market, I have come to see that all young beings, no matter gender, or origin, are self-centered, bumbling fools with delusions of self-importance.

It is only in retrospect that I can see the sacrifices and efforts made to educate me and to keep me safe. Not only from those who attacked from the air but also those within my own nation and family. And only in retrospect do I understand that it was more than duty that motivated these women. It was a love I am ashamed to admit that only now when it is much too late is it reciprocated.


	10. My Fourth Year Out of the Egg

### My Fourth Year Out of the Egg

On those exceedingly rare occasions when my father did ask me to perform an unfamiliar task and found I did not already know how to do it, he would treat my failure as a fault in my mental capacity. 

Usually, after these encounters, my slaves, one in particular, would instruct me in the task and if they could in any related subject or activity that they could think of to prevent me from future embarrassment and harassment at my father's hands.

I wanted to please my father and, I wanted praise from him for something other than my looks or ability to reflect back to him the teachings of our faith. Teachings every single thern learned from their earliest days.

As for his teachings, I believed everything I was taught. Why wouldn't I? It was the world I lived in. It was the world I was raised in; it was the world.

But, even then, I knew that Slave, my teacher, was not someone to slaughter and consume. I knew this to be true in my heart; even if my head and training told me otherwise.

For entertainment, I watched several performances by the slave called Thuvia in the games during that year. The banths obeying her every word. Each time more and more banths were added to the entertainment, sometimes captured banths from the dead sea bottoms were introduced, but the results were the same. Something about her voice, her sing-song lilt and cadence tamed the beasts. Almost as if she spoke their own language. One time a company of criminals were armed with swords and sent in to execute the woman if they could. She was allowed to call as many of the banths in the cages around the arena as she wanted. It was a complete slaughter of the criminal company. After that, I thought I saw a fear of the woman on more than one face, including that of Sator Throg.

It was after overhearing more conversations of my slaves about Princess Thuvia that I became more curious about the customs of the outside world and how they differed from our own. To my surprise, there were some similarities, as well as the expected difference. But thinking about it, how could they be much different than ours given that we provided their spiritual guidance over the eons, even before the oceans dried up and air thinned.

Given the questions I had started asking them, they became curious about my own situation.

They asked if my father's mother had produced a daughter. – She had not.

They asked if my mother had any sisters. – None that lived for any length of time after my father had ascended to his preeminent position in the race.

Those sisters had met with accident or death at the hand of their guards if they were in danger of being captured by the pirates that chronically descend on our temples and gardens. They could not be risked falling into the hands of the pirates and through them a claim to the head of the thern race.

In the outside world, the goal was to rescue the princess, not kill her if she was in danger of capture.

The killing of the princesses seemed cruel to most of the slaves. But my father reasoned it is only logical, as the offspring of any one of those sisters could by law and custom either be the next Holy Hekkador or the next mother of the Holy Hekkador. As my father's own mother had not produced a daughter, a sister to the Hekkador, to carry on the line, one of the cadet branches would take over.

It appeared there were no branches left.

They asked why I had been allowed to live when all my sisters before me had not? I answered that I had been preserved as the conduit to the future and only due to my father's decision to make the trip to the Temple of Issus within the next twenty or thirty years.

He didn't fear that I would take the position of Holy Hekkador as only a man can be the Holy Hekkador. But he did fear that I would mother a child before he was ready and to prevent that he closely guarded and controlled my contacts outside the temple.

I was to make no contract, take no lover, take no yearly mate in all that time.

He only said when the time was right, he would reveal who he had selected to father the next Holy Hekkador.

The competition for his favor in pursuing that goal had only strengthened my father's position.

After the birth of a healthy son of mine, my father would spend the next five or six years training the young man until his full maturity, and then my father would take the last walk down the corridor that leads to the Temple of Issus, there to spend the rest of eternity with his sister the Goddess of Life Eternal.

My father didn't have any sons that he could to pass the position along to and by custom they wouldn't have been acceptable anyway, except as a last resort, and with my existence now, they, if they existed, were no longer the last resort.

Only the offspring of a woman could inherit the position, my father's mother had not hatched any daughters, it would have been a son of his nonexistent sister that would have inherited the position.

The acceptable transmission then fell to the daughter of the last son hatched. In this case my father and me. My father being the only son, the only offspring, was that last hatched son and had been for a thousand years.

But a thousand years is a long time, and even a thern starts showing signs of slowing down, of becoming less capable.

It was time for him to consider joining his sister Issus in the temple, there to be restored to youth and vigor, and to live at the side of the goddess.

Of course, he had fathered many sons over his long life but none survived very long. Not one had made it more than twenty years. All were dead, the most recent only a little short of four years ago in a grievous air accident, it was some months after I had been hatched.

I had been somewhat relieved at his death as he had tormented me with stories and even on occasion outright abuse of mind and body while he lived.

I think he might have tried to kill me if he had lived longer. He must have known his time was short when I had been allowed to live and he took it out on me while he could. I think he only hastened his own death by his abuse of me. I also suspect he is the reason my memories of the first few months of my life are so fractured.

None of his brothers before him had fared any better, most had died by accidents of one sort or another. A few of them in combat with the pirate raiders.

Of course, they had lived much longer than any of the daughters, they had met their end on the day of their hatching. I sometimes wonder who had the better end of that deal. 

Many thought my father had sent my brothers to their deaths either by arraigning the accidents or by insisting that they fight the pirates in order to learn more about our defenses or the methods of the pirate's attacks. This to better be able to defend against them in the future.

The continued speculation that I overheard from servants, guards, and even from some of the lesser thern was that each of these sons had come to covet the position of Holy Hekkador. Their only hope to attain the title was to kill my father before a daughter was allowed to live.

With the possibility that a daughter would be hatched and allowed to live, they were in danger of losing their chance to take power.

With my fifth year approaching, I was about to reach full maturity for a thern. I would in theory be in charge of my own life then. I might still be gaining a bit of height and developing the full bulk of my adult self but I would legally be able to make my own decisions.

That was if I weren’t the daughter of the hekkador and subject to his rule as the leader of the faith.

But, at that time I should be able to assert full control over my guard attachment separating it from his entirely and controlling which slaves I kept and which were returned to him.

I was looking forward to that day, but first, my hair was finally getting long enough that my first religious duty to my father was approaching. The sacrifice of most of my hair to provide the raw materials for a new wig for him.

The hair of a thern woman grows slowly and only now as I approached my fifth year was it both long enough and thick enough to provide what was necessary for the process. Of course, my father being the hekkador there was a religious ceremony surrounding the whole thing.


	11. A New Wig for the Hekkador

### A New Wig for the Hekkador

The day had come when I could contribute something other than my potential as the layer of the egg of the next Holy Hekkador.

My father needed a new wig. His current wig was showing wear and tear. Hundreds of years old it had served well past the time most thern men replaced theirs.

The wig of the Holy Hekkador could only come from a woman of the holy family. The last woman of the family able to supply that hair had been an aunt hundreds of years ago.

Now that I was of age having finished my fourth year out of the egg I was to provide a new wig for my father, my hair was long enough and thick enough to produce an excellent replacement.

The ceremony surrounding the harvesting of hair for a new wig, especially for the wig of the highest priest in the ancient religion, had many rules and took some time in preparation.

For my part, I had to be bathed and dressed in the finest silk and jewels. I had to look the part of the senior woman in the holy family. A position that had been vacant for centuries.

Some research on my part and that of my slaves and guards found the relevant preparations and procedures for the day. My guard captain acted as my contact with the office of the Holy Hekkador and laid out the plans for the procession, the rituals, and the actual cutting of my hair. There was to be an audience at all times as the hair was taken and fashioned into a wig, thankfully I only had to be present until the point of it being cut from my head.

The length of my hair after the majority of it was taken for the wig would be just short of touching my shoulders. A look not prized in the culture of the thern, but one that denoted sacrifice and piety.

Unfortunately for me, there was a banquet and presentation of my father wig later in the evening that I did have to prominently attend. My short hair on display for all to see as the wig fashioned from my hair was first seen being worn by my father.

The rumor was that we were to have a special meal provided by Sator Throg as he strove to curry favor with my father, he was culling his slaves just for the occasion. The fortunate few were to provide their last sacrifice to the Holy Thern race providing sustainable to the gods.

Attending me was Slave, she had been my slave for the entirety of my life. She had been with my mother at my hatching and been given the task of my care by my mother on her departure. She was still performing her duty this day personally taking care of my preparation.

On that fateful day, I was finally able to fulfill one of my duties to my father.

If you have read any of the encounters as related via John Carter's nephew on Jasoom you may already know that thern men are born and remain bald throughout their lives. That genetic trait is not shared by the thern women.

It was always amusing to me as new slaves discovered this fact. One could tell from the speculative looks as they surreptitiously examined the hair on the heads of all therns, It was equally satisfying when they found out that the women's hair was natural and not a wig. I never understood the assumption that all thern must be bald, where did they think the hair that was used in the wigs came from, maybe from a while ape and had been dyed blond?

That morning started with the need to ready myself for the great majority of my hair being taken to fashion my father's new wig.

Slave readied my bath and laid out the oils and ointments that comprised a regime of care to help produce the best results for the hair to be used in my father's wig. I didn't look forward to having no more hair than the lowest slave but unlike them, mine would be allowed to grow.

The taking of my hair would leave me shoulder-length hair in the manner of a red warrior. It would take at least a year or more to regrow my hair to a respectable length for a woman of the therns. I would be both pitied and revered in my sacrifice until that time.

The court of the Holy Hekkador was in preparation for the celebration to follow the ritual.

The masters of the tenth cycle were providing entertainment, food, and drink to be consumed at the feast after my sacrifice.

Sator Throg himself was to provide the slaves that were to become the meat for the meal that evening.

He had come to grow tired of his slave Thuvia, and had sent her to the cliffs to sacrifice her blood to the ancestors. I had seen Thuvia myself in the arena providing entertainment with her command of the banths, asking them to do tricks for the amusement of the assembled.

On those occasions, I was in my private box surrounded by my guards and none were allowed to approach me. Tonight that would be different, my father could not overcome the customs surrounding the ritual just performed and by custom, I must be present and I must be available for praise for my sacrifice and condolences on my appearance for the coming year or years while my hair grew back.

Since Thuvia was one of the finest of the slaves possessing great beauty and a fierce heart she had been deemed worthy of the sacrificial meal and most of the men seemed to be looking forward to it.

Secretly, I believed it was that Sator Throg had come to fear his slave too much, I had heard that she continued to fight his advances all these years after her selection as she emerged from the caverns at the end of the journey down the River Iss.

The information via my network of slaves and guards was that only through force was he successful with her. And, while that pleased him, allowing him to demonstrate his power and mastery over the lesser breeds of Barsoom, I had heard that she had more than once come close to setting a banth on her master.

Only the threat of complete destruction for her companions had prevented her from acting. That was the rumor circulating in the court and bought to my ears by my loyal guards.

Her mastery over the banths of the lower levels had in past years provided much of the entertainment at many functions and that mastery had come to be viewed by many as a threat to the natural order.

So, not only was Sator Throg eager to end her life but so were many others who could not bear the thought of one of the lower orders having a capability that no thern possessed. This must-have called into question the very foundations of their faith.

I myself gave that very little thought, my father's instructions in the matter of the world were enough for me and no amount of doubt was allowed to change that.

Even now her flesh might be under the mouths of the plant men to drain her of blood and provide sustenance to the ancestors. Then, instead of her flesh being given to the great white apes as was usual, it would be prepared for the evening meal.

I didn't particularly look forward to the meal. I would have preferred the continued entertainment she had provided. That, and with Thuvia gone, Sator Throg would doubtlessly spend more time courting me, now that one of the most powerful of the Thern of the Tenth Cycle had been favored in such a way by my father.

But now it was time for me to provide one of the minor functions of my existence. The instruments used to cut and fashion a new wig that would that very night take the place of the current wig on the head of my father were laid out and ready. The ritual washing of the hair and the conditioning of the hair for removal was ready and all that was left was for me to lay down on the altar and pray to Iss that my sacrifice would be worthy of her brother.

By the evening the task was done and the ritual to bestow the new wig and destroy the old wig was completed. I was tired and still getting used to the lighter sensation of having most of my hair gone.

I felt almost lightheaded and my neck and head seemed to overcompensate for the missing hair sometimes as I turned my head from side to side. I knew this would soon resolve itself but it was an odd sensation.

Even then had I known that a man from Jasoom had arrived outside the walls of the temple grounds I wouldn't have been worried that things were about to change. None had escaped the clutches of the plant-men and the great while apes in all the ages of the thern race except those few who had been saved to serve as slaves and entertainment for the fighting men of the lesser therns. I knew a few of the Holy Therns amused themselves with the more attractive of the red slaves.

Truthfully the Jasoomian's arrival was for me a stroke of luck. If he had not arrived when he did then the events that followed would have gone much worse for me.


	12. My Last Days at My Temple

### My Last Days at My Temple

My last normal day. The last day of my life that was. The last day as it had been planned by my father. My life had an itinerary laid out for me from the time of hatching to the time I laid an egg to provide a male heir to my father.

I was getting used to my new hair, my head was lighter and I kept almost wrenching my neck as I moved it to swing much more hair than I currently had.

After the excitement of the previous day, I was ready to spend time alone in the garden and read a story obtained from one of the newly arrived slaves. She had kept the book as a treasured part of her life. It seemed to be a story of a noble warrior of Ptarth, holding an opinion that royals were shallow and useless members of society, who crosses paths with a princess who, being very far down the line of succession, was nonetheless proud of her position and the influence she wielded in the lives of those around her.

The story I was told was very very old and well known in that part of the world. As I read it my mind turned back to the odd incident at the banquet. The menu had changed and Sator Throg had been humiliated. It seemed that his contribution to the dinner had disappeared. Vanished into the bowels of the tunnels and passages honeycombing the cliffs upon which our temples are built.

There were dead guards and evidence of fighting and here the story got interesting -- banth kills. I wondered if Thuvia was responsible for the change in plans. I smiled to myself a bit at the discomfort of Sator Throg as he had been visibly demoted in my father's eyes taking his place far down the table of the Therns of the Tenth Cycle.

I heard he was planning to search the tunnels until he found her and made her pay for this latest humiliation. I wondered briefly how long she could avoid him and recapture. I knew she couldn't escape to the outer world; the snow, ice, and hostile conditions along the way would make sure of that. She might reach the fertile lands of the lost men, and she might thrive there if she kept her banths for power among the barbarians.

Secretly I was glad not to have to eat her flesh as I had enjoyed the shows she provided and I thought she was better suited to entertaining us than feeding us.

I spent the next hours enjoying the book as the principal characters foolishly and almost willfully misunderstood each other and their motives all the while finding each other attractive and for the warrior a highly advantageous mating.

It was a comedy of sorts and I enjoyed the farce.

All around me my slaves and guards were putting my place back to order, the activities of the last few days had made a chaotic mess of my life. The hustle and bustle provided a background of comfort a feeling of being safe and secure in my position and place in the world.

That was all about to change.


	13. Captured

### Captured

The raid came late that night as they almost always did. Of course, at this time of year, the dark of night was a very long time. Much longer than the amount of time the light of the sun shone on the blessed Valley Dor.

It was a particularly large party of pirates that were targeting my own temple. The initial rush of defenders had taken my outer guardsmen. All that had been left me were my cadre of warrior women. They and my body servants were my last line of defense. This night they were not enough. The thirty or so pirates that finally broke into the inner sanctuary were met by the cunning and the brave defenders. Immediately half of the pirates had been killed by the women guardsmen. But the remaining fight fell to hand to hand. There, the larger and stronger pirates prevailed. For the fifteen remaining women, the pirates only lost another five men. I could hear the fierce fighting in the gardens and avenues. I even thought I heard the roar of banths and a great cry of terror from many throats. I had my own terror to deal with, the sounds outside receded in my attention as I watched the raiders advance on my last defenders and me.

As my guards dwindled and the hoped-for reinforcements did not appear, one of my guards broke away from the engagement and turned towards me, tears were streaming down her face. The sight of the tears, a rare thing on Barsoom even among the thern who have one of the last remaining bodies of water in their domain, startled me. That and the look of death in her eyes. I knew she was prepared to follow her orders and kill me before the pirates could take me. I readied myself for her blows, but they never came.

Slave, seeing the situation and knowing the fate of my father's aunts, intervened. My slave, who had always been by my side ever since I broke through my shell, took up a sword fallen from the dead hand of one of my guard's women. She bared the way as I stood behind her, not knowing if rescue would soon counter-attack the pirates from behind. I looked for that relief. I clung to that hope, my only hope. But it was a doomed hope. My slave first killed the would-be reluctant assassin then turned to the pirates nearest us.

She gave a good account of herself. She was much more skilled with the weapon than I would have thought. I regretted that her knowledge of the sword had been unknown to me. I would have insisted on secret lessons from her had I known. She dispatched two pirates with her agile and cunning sword work. Once she had easily killed two of the pirates, the others treated her with more respect. But in the end, she died defending me. Me, the woman who owned her. Now she was free. The pile of pirate bodies about her a testament to her skill and devotion.

She had wedged her sword in her last kill. This hindered her from withdrawing her sword from the pirate's body. Her left flank was exposed longer than she had intended. Seeing his opening, one of the devils ran her through under her arm and into her heart.

There was a strange emotion that passed over me as the woman who had cared for my every need during my entire life lay at my feet, bleeding out her life's blood. Her eyes found mine, and there the fading light of her love shone. It was a light I only came to understand later. Much too late.

The triumphant pirate stepped over her body and stripped me of my silks and furs. Then he made sure there were no hidden weapons on my body. Another lifted me over his shoulder and returned to the courtyard. Two members of their party split off and boarded large fliers that could carry maybe fifty men, men that would not return to their home. The remainder boarded the third flier, a smaller twelve-man flier. The pirate carrying me took me forward, shoved me down against the bow gun mount, and tied me in place.

As I watched to see what these devils would do next. I was surprised to see them one by one find a place on the deck. The boat was gaining enough altitude to be free from the conflict. A few threw themselves down where there stood. Some of them were asleep almost before they hit the deck.

The rest were sitting, breathing heavily and smiling at me as if they had won some great prize. It was then I saw one of these weary fellows accidentally lean against the lever that lowered the mooring rope near the bow of the flier and I watched him unknowingly activate the mechanism. There flared a brief hope as I thought that maybe someone or something would catch the rope and bring the flier down or at least keep the flier from leaving the precincts of the thern domain.

We were rising slowly at first. One of the pirates had hit the lever to lift the craft but not engage the engine to drive the large propeller at the rear. When we did get underway my last hope of someone using the mooring rope to pull us down was dashed.

Tied as I was, I was forced to sit with my back to the mount. I twisted my way around to face the bow so that I would not have to watch the remaining pirates watch me with avarice and, in some cases, lust in their eyes.

Looking into the dark, I could see once again in my mind's eye as my guards were being cut down to the last woman, the pirates had come for one thing and one thing only, me. Several of those guards had been the closest thing I had had to friends. Then the last to die was my body servant, the woman who had been, for want of a better word, my mother. The one who had picked me up when I was smaller, fed me, educated me, cared for me. I was utterly alone and at the mercy of the merciless.


	14. Pirate Ships

### Pirate Ships

I could not have gone to sleep there on the deck of that flier. Just captured by the eternal enemies of my holy race my mind was full of dread and my body full of fear.

Images of the horrors I had just witnessed kept appearing in my minds eye. To keep them company were scenes conjured up by my only too vivid imagination of the rumored fate that awaited me at the hands of the pirates. The stories I had heard of the degradation heaped upon the captives of the pirates occupied my every thought. If even half of the stories I had heard were true then I didn't have long to live. I would become the plaything of these very pirates. To be used and abused, a plaything to torment and torture for their sick and base instincts. And in the end I would become to them what the red men were to us. Food. My life was over. A little part of me wondered if what I was feeling now was in some way the same as what the lower orders felt when they fell into our hands?

Looking back I noticed that all but one had found their silks and furs to sleep while they could. The lone guard on the deck of the flier was wrapped in his furs and in the dark it was hard to see where we were headed, the stories were that the pirates lived on Thuria, the lesser moon of Barsoom. And since they were no where to be found on the surface of Barsoom that seemed as likely as any other location.

I knew that were we to head straight there I would be dead long before we reached that destination having suffocated from the lack of oxygen in the emptiness of space. That would be preferable to the death at the hands of these pirates. I assumed we would stay on Barsoom until they had had their fun, then they would return to their homes on the moon.

My own body was covered by a few silks one of the pirates had picked up and thrown over me but they were insufficient to the task of keeping me warm and any sleep would have been impossible even without my racing mind and the chemicals released into my system as my fear and anxiety kept me looking for any means of escape. But there was no escape.

Eventually my body exhausted the immediate rush of the capture and my mind not finding a ready way to escape my bonds much less find a way off this small flier settled into a watchful state.

I noticed when the guard came to attention and cocked his head as if listening for some faint sound, something that was out of the ordinary. Evidently he did not consider it enough of a concern to rouse one of his fellow warriors.

Drawing his revolver he moved slowly towards the bow of the boat passing me as he went. Tied to the forward deck gun as I was he didn't even spare me a glance as he crept toward whatever sound or motion had attracted his attention. As he leaned over the side of the craft he evidently found something alarming, but still he did not call out to his fellow warriors. Evidently he thought he could deal with the problem him self. His revolver hand lifted as it cleared the side of the boat and suddenly his body was dragged half over the side his feet and lower legs barely off the deck. He must have dropped his revolver as both his hands were now on the rail grabbing it for dear life. But as he continued to thrash and struggle he was drawn more and more over the side of the flier.

Still he did not call out to his fellows and I could only assume he was being held around the throat by some powerful hand, a hand like that found on a great white ape perhaps. His struggles were growing weaker and suddenly he let go of the rail and put every last bit of his remaining strength into breaking free of that awful grasp that must be choking the life from him. Suddenly his body was gone over the side. Even the strength of large powerful man had not been enough to keep him from being dragged off the boat.

Obviously he had been caught in the grip of something wild and immensely strong, the only thing that came to my mind with that kind of strength was a white ape. Had one somehow managed to climb up the dangling tether rope and was even now feasting on the man that had just disappeared? The pirate had not cried out, had he been overcome with fear or had his throat been crushed? Either option spoke of a terror that lay beyond the boats side.

As I watched the place where the pirate had disappeared, I half expected and feared the face of a great white ape to appear. Would it climb aboard and kill us all? At least I would be avenged by one of my ancestors even as I joined the ranks of the apes. Eventually a head and shoulder appeared but they did not belong to a white ape, rather it was a familiar face sporting the gem of a master of the tenth cycle of the Holy Therns.

The relief that swept through my body then was beyond anything I had ever felt before. I somehow knew I was now safe. Safer than I had ever been in my life. I nodded to my rescuer in recognition.

One of the best warriors of the Holy Therns had seen my plight and come to my rescue. I could only image what had prompted him but the reward of fathering the next hekkador might have spurred this wild adventure on his part. I had not paid much real attention to Sator Throg before, I had seen him at court and at the great games, but I had never spoken to him. There were some rumors that were not very kind to his reputation but that he was a mighty warrior was not disputed.

My father's grip on my life was total and had prevented my interaction with any but those he deemed safe, safe for him. That meant that none of the Holy Therns of the Tenth Cycle had been permitted to attend to me either at court, and most certainly not to be courted.

Sator Throg's prowess among the thern was well known. I had once watched him enter the games and single-handedly defeated three slaves who had been condemned to die for the amusement of the crowds. Now here he was facing much greater odds than that. But if he was quick he should be able to kill most of the pirates while they slept.

"I can aid you," I said, "and you will need all the aid available when they awaken."

"Some of them will awake in Korus," he replied smiling.

I couldn't help but be pleased that the very pirates that had caused the death of my guards among whom were the few who by word and deed had proven to be loyal to me and not my father. And my brave loyal slave, the woman whose name and country I never actually knew, the woman who had cared for my needs and wants since I had pushed my way out of my shell five short years ago. The woman who had been there for my entire life.

He quickly cut my bonds and I spent a few seconds working the feeling back into my hands and feet.

Wishing to be of some help and knowing I would like nothing better than to send one of these animals to their death I whispered to my rescuer, "Give me a revolver, I can use that upon those your sword does not silence in time."

He handed me the revolver hanging at his side, then he turned and went to work securing our safety and in a small part avenging the deaths of my guards.

He silently approached the sleeping body of the nearest pirate and quickly tossed the body over the side to commence the long fall to the surface of the Korus far below. The inevitable cry as the man awoke far below realizing his fate barely reaching our ears and too faint to disturb the sleeping pirates.

Unfortunately the second devil was a light sleeper and the moment Sator Throg touched him he awoke, the struggle was quick and ended with the pirate being tossed after his companion but the resulting shouting and scuffle was enough to bring the remaining five to their feet.

I could tell the pirates would have liked to use the revolvers hanging at their sides to take care of the Holy Thern that they now found on their deck. But, the fact that he was outnumbered five to one and that I was the prize they had risked and lost lives in the temple for and they would sooner lose more men before they would risk harming me kept them to using their swords. A shouted command by one of them had made plain that they were not to risk harming me.

I had no such restraint.

As they stood there my revolver spoke with a sharp crack and one of the most blood thirsty of the pirates sank back to the deck again, the death of the only woman that had loved me avenged as the man who had struck her down was struck down himself.

The remaining four drew their swords and rushed Sator Throg hoping to overwhelm his defenses quickly, I dared not fire again for fear of hitting the wrong target but if I could flank the fight I might get yet one more of the devils and thus slightly improve the odds.

As the four pirates attacked I expected Sator Throg to fall quickly, the ferocity of the pirates was well known and feared. I was ready to take as many of them as I could before they reached me. I only hoped that the revolver hadn't been used before being handed to me, I prayed to Iss that there were enough rounds remaining to take care of the four devils.

To my amazement Sator Throg maintained enough of a defense to stay alive even though he took a few shallow cuts in the process of beating back that initial attack. I continued moving to the side, looking for an opening. My frustration with the situation was climbing as the fight continued, Sator Throg couldn't last much longer. As I watched I saw that he was stronger than I would have suspected, and faster and more agile. Something was not as I remembered when I had watched this very warrior in the arena a few days ago. Putting that observation to the back of my mind I kept moving to find a position where I could get clear enough of the fight to use the revolver again. Soon I could take one more of them out of the fight, I just hoped it would be soon enough.

It was then I saw Sator Throg slip his sword between the ribs of one of the pirates. One more lifeless body littered the desk.

The remaining three pirates seeing that things were not going their way made a rush at Sator Throg with the evident intent of pushing him over the rail at his back. In doing so they exposed themselves to my revolver. I took the shot and had the satisfaction of seeing another devil die as my bullet ripped his chest apart. The rest happened so quickly I couldn't really follow but the end result was that while I had taken care of one, Sator Throg had disarmed one and buried his sword to the hilt in the third.

The two disarmed men stood facing each other but only briefly, the pirate charged Sator Throg not taking the time to draw his dagger, evidently thinking his extra bulk and muscle would quickly overwhelm the Holy Thern. Again I couldn't fire for fear of hitting my rescuer.

The pirate might have had the advantage in reach and weight but the other was quicker and more agile, he ducked the grapple, then quickly stepping to the side where he landed a hard blow to the jaw of the pirate. The blow was enough to send the man to the deck in a heap.

It was then that those small doubts that had crept into my consciousness as the fight progressed were entirely confirmed. I had seen Sator Throg fight many times in the arena and never once had he been this good with his fists or displayed such footwork. The speed and agility I had just witnessed was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and to judge by the surprised looks on the pirates faces as the had fought him they had not either.

I had to laugh, the revelation and the relief or dealing with the now dispatched pirates left me giddy. The fear and anxiety of the hours since my capture released all at once.

"You are no thern," I managed to get out in my surprise, "for all your golden locks or the harness of Sator Throg. Never lived there upon all Barsoom before one who could fight as you have fought this night. Who are you?"

"I am John Carter, Prince of the House of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium," was the reply. "And whom has the honor of serving been accorded me?"

What did I know of this man? His skin was as white as a thern but he claimed to be of Helium and not only that but a prince in the royal house of that land. He was an unknown mystery. He had rescued me but what for, for himself, was I now to be his prisoner? I had to know. I check my revolver, there were no more rounds.

"You are no thern. I stated, Are you an enemy of the therns?"

He looked at me a moment then said, "I have been in the territory of the therns for a day and a half. During that entire time my life has been in constant danger. I have been harassed and persecuted. Armed men and fierce beasts have been set upon me. I had no quarrel with the therns before, but can you wonder that I feel no great love for them now? I have spoken."

Who was this man? Obviously he had had a few run-ins with the lesser therns who had not treated him well. And he must have run into Sator Throg and beaten him senseless or even killed him.

That last wasn't as great a mark against him as it might have been, Sator Throg had recently been petitioning my father for my hand. My father had other plans for me, though I still didn't know what those plans might be. So Sator Throg had started trying to pay secret court to me and it was for that reason that I had at first though he had decided to try to rescue me. For how could I then refuse him and how would Matai Shang be able to refuse the hero that had saved his daughter? I had no great love for Sator Throg, I had heard from my slaves the way he treated his annual wives. The lower order wives didn't always survive the honor of being with the Master of the Tenth Cycle. His slave Thuvia had been in Sator Throgs service for many years and the shame and degradation that had been heaped upon her was the talk of the slaves. That wasn't of any real consequence but the stories of how he treated the lesser thern women he took from time to time did. But, if I could have this man, this stranger return with me to my father, who could refuse to award him the honor of a single year of marriage to that daughter? And having seen what I had just witnessed, perhaps a stronger alliance would form if an egg were to be produced? I might be able to escape my father soon rather than later. And have the honor of being the mother of the next Holy Hekkador, one that might inherit some part of this warriors abilities. One whose father might be able to protect from the machinations of the current holder of the office.

"I am Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang, Holy Hekkador of the Holy Therns, Father of Therns, Master of Life and Death upon Barsoom, Brother of Issus, Prince of Life Eternal."

He must have caught movement out of the corner of his eye for he took one leap to the side of the pirate who was starting to rouse and quickly taking the harness from him tied his hands behind his back, then he dragged him to the same gun carriage to which I had recently been attached and secured the new prisoner there. It was pretty turn about and I took some small pleasure in seeing one of them tied and secured to the same and place. But there was an easier way to deal with the problem.

"Why not the simpler way?" I wondered. Why didn't we just take this flier free of any pirates and return to the temples of my father?

"I do not understand. What 'simpler way'?" he looked puzzled as he asked.

With a slight shrug I pretended to toss him over the side.

"I am no murderer, I kill in self-defense only."

I was my turn to be puzzled. Why? Every mouth left was one more taking the air and the resources the planet had left. None, except for those kept as slaves and servants were spared. It was the custom across all of Barsoom. The diminishing ability of the planet to supply life to those who lived there. There must be something I was missing here and only added to the mystery of my rescuer. Plus, if that last pirate was dead then my guards and slave would be fully avenged, the entire contingent had been slaughtered and it would only be fitting if the entire force that had caused their deaths met the same fate.

Pirates were too wild to keep as slaves. So why was he still alive?

The pirate was awake and watching our conversation, he didn't look too comfortable trussed up there on the deck and in that I took a small amount of satisfaction, but it would never be enough to avenge my guards and my slave or my hours of torment.

John Carter noticed that we were drifting aimlessly above the valley, his only thought now was of escape and knowing that any civilization that he might recognize would be north that is the direction he point the craft and pushing the buttons to both gain altitude and speed he set about getting away from the conflict still evident far below and behind us.

The vessel rapidly gained altitude, it had been built to carry many more than its current occupants, John Carter was intent on putting as much distance between himself and the pirates as he could and quickly, that goal I could and did completely agree with, but at the same time I was being carried away from my home, from my father, from all I knew. Stripped of silks and furs as I had been at my capture the cold was seeping into my bones. I noticed that my breathes were now rapid and no matter how I tried I couldn't get enough air. I watched to see what John Carter would do now. I noticed the pirate watching him too I think for similar reasons. What would the man do? Could he breath where I couldn't? I didn't worry about the pirate, he likely could survive the airless expanse.

Mustering as much breath as I could and even then I could only barely hear myself. "Unconsciousness comes quickly at this altitude, unless you are inviting death for us all you had best drop, and that quickly."

With what I had just witnessed in the last few hours the thought of death didn't hold much fear for me now, I did fear captivity by the pirates more. But, it looked like we might be able to escape that fate too. So, maybe living a while longer was preferable to suffocating at high altitudes.

John Carter seemed to realize that I might expire at any moment and quickly pulled the lever that would lower our altitude. At that moment I lost consciousness.

When I came too we were flying close along the foothills of the Otz. We had reduced our speed, I assumed to preserve fuel supplies. I suspected John Carter wanted to be able to fly as far as the craft would be able to take him, to fly as fast as it would go would burn fuel too quickly. That told me that John Carter was thinking of the long term. It was noticeably warmer than it had been at high altitudes, though not warm, I could breath easily again, my lungs and body grateful for the relief that every breath was not a struggle.

"It was a close call," I commented.

With a knowing smile John Carter said "It has taught me two things though.

"What?"

"That even Phaidor, daughter of the Master of Life and Death, is mortal. He continued smiling and it seemed took great delight in pointing out my mortality.

I fell back on thern doctrine and replied as I had learned, "There is immortality only in Issus, and Issus is for the race of therns alone. Thus am I immortal."

If only I had known then what I know now I would not have been so sure in my answer.

I continued, "If the other thing you have just learned has led to as erroneous deductions as the first you are little richer in knowledge than you were before."

"The other," and here he looked to the pirate, "is that our dusky friend here does not hail from the nearer moon he was like to have died at a few thousand feet above Barsoom. Had we continued the five thousand miles that lie between Thuria and the planet he would have been but the frozen memory of a man."

What!? How could that be. Therns knew of every civilization on the planet, had a temple and a presence in every significant city and settlement. Even the lost and forgotten empires of Okar were not unknown to the thern. How could the pirates be anywhere on Barsoom and the thern not know of the location, they had to have come from off the planet. But now if what John Carter said was true, where did the pirates live? Where was their base and how could they hide from the thern so thoroughly?

I look over at the pirate a questioning and confused look must have covered my face as I asked him directly "If you are not of Thuria, then where?"

The pirate just looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and looked away, it was clear he had no intention of telling me. Me the daughter of Matai Shang, the Holy Hekkador, the Master of Life and Death. How dare he be so disrespectful. I was not used to this behavior from anyone, anyone but my father that is. He controlled my life to the smallest detail and I didn't like this man reminding me of that feeling of powerlessness. I confess I lost me temper and put my foot down.

"The daughter of Matai Shang is not accustomed to having her queries remain unanswered, one of the lesser breed should feel honored that a member of the holy race that was born to inherit life eternal should deign even to notice him."

His only answer to that demand was to smile a secret and knowing smile, one that seemed to mock me and my very existence.

"Xodar, Dator of the First Born of Barsoom, is accustomed to give commands, not to receive them," replied the pirate.

Then he turned to John Carter, "What are your intentions concerning me?"

As I was curious myself to that answer I turned to look at John Carter, he might tell me my own fate should he succeed in escaping both the thern fleet and the pirate fleet. Though either of those seemed to me impossible knowing as I did that only one had ever escaped the thern eons ago.

"I intend taking you both back to Helium, no harm will come to you. You will find the red men of Helium a kindly and magnanimous race, but if they listen to me there will be no more voluntary pilgrimages down the river Iss, and the impossible belief that they have cherished for ages will be shattered into a thousand pieces."

"Are you of Helium?" Xodar asked.

"I am a Prince of the House of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium," John Carter proudly stated, "but I am not of Barsoom. I am of another world."

Xodar stared at the man trying to get a measure of the truth of the words. He seemed to come to the conclusion that if it was not the truth it was close enough.

"I can well believe that you are not of Barsoom, none of this world could have bested eight of the First Born single-handed. But how is it that you wear the golden hair and the jeweled circlet of a Holy Thern?" He emphasized the word holy with a touch of irony.

Evidently my killing two of those eight didn't count and John Carter didn't correct him either, so single-handedly only applied to men, any woman's help was discounted. I can't say this is the first I have run into the peculiar blindness of the male, no matter the race or evidently planet from which they hailed.

"I had forgotten them," John Carter said. "They are the spoils of conquest," and with a sweep of his hand he removed the wig covering his head, I half expected to see a bald pate just as a thern might have but the shock of short black hair surprised me, as it evidently did the pirate too. It was only later that I learned that those spoils of conquest rightfully belonged to another woman, the very Thuvia that was to have been the evening meal at the last banquet held after the sacrifice of my hair. I had wondered briefly at the mystery of the switch to wild thoat for the meal. It was Thuvia herself that later revealed the truth of that mystery.

From the look on Xodar's face I think he too was surprised at the absence of a bald head and the black hair was not unlike Xodar's own.

"You are indeed of another world, with the skin of a thern, the black hair of a First Born and the muscles of a dozen Dators it was no disgrace even for Xodar to acknowledge your supremacy. A thing he could never do were you a Barsoomian."

"You are traveling several laps ahead of me, my friend," John Carter interjected "I glean that your name is Xodar, but whom, pray, are the First Born, and what a Dator, and why, if you were conquered by a Barsoomian, could you not acknowledge it?"

"The First Born of Barsoom, are the race of black men of which I am a Dator, or, as the lesser Barsoomians would say, Prince. My race is the oldest on the planet. We trace our lineage, unbroken, direct to the Tree of Life which flourished in the center of the Valley Dor twenty-three million years ago.

"For countless ages the fruit of this tree underwent the gradual changes of evolution, passing by degrees from true plant life to a combination of plant and animal. In the first stages the fruit of the tree possessed only the power of independent muscular action, while the stem remained attached to the parent plant; later a brain developed in the fruit, so that hanging there by their long stems they thought and moved as individuals.

"Then, with the development of perceptions came a comparison of them; judgments were reached and compared, and thus reason and the power to reason were born upon Barsoom.

"Ages passed. Many forms of life came and went upon the Tree of Life, but still all were attached to the parent plant by stems of varying lengths. At length the fruit tree consisted in tiny plant men, such as we now see reproduced in such huge dimensions in the Valley Dor, but still hanging to the limbs and branches of the tree by the stems which grew from the tops of their heads.

"The buds from which the plant men blossomed resembled large nuts about a foot in diameter, divided by double partition walls into four sections. In one section grew the plant man, in another a sixteen-legged worm, in the third the progenitor of the white ape and in the fourth the primeval black man of Barsoom.

"When the bud burst the plant man remained dangling at the end of his stem, but the three other sections fell to the ground, where the efforts of their imprisoned occupants to escape sent them hopping about in all directions.

"Thus as time went on, all Barsoom was covered with these imprisoned creatures. For countless ages they lived their long lives within their hard shells, hopping and skipping about the broad planet; falling into rivers, lakes, and seas, to be still further spread about the surface of the new world.

"Countless billions died before the first black man broke through his prison walls into the light of day. Prompted by curiosity, he broke open other shells and the peopling of Barsoom commenced.

"The pure strain of the blood of this first black man has remained untainted by admixture with other creatures in the race of which I am a member; but from the sixteen-legged worm, the first ape and renegade black man has sprung every other form of animal life upon Barsoom.

"The therns," and he smiled maliciously as he spoke, "are but the result of ages of evolution from the pure white ape of antiquity. They are a lower order still. There is but one race of true and immortal humans on Barsoom. It is the race of black men.

"The Tree of Life is dead, but before it died the plant men learned to detach themselves from it and roam the face of Barsoom with the other children of the First Parent.

"Now their bisexuality permits them to reproduce themselves after the manner of true plants, but otherwise they have progressed but little in all the ages of their existence. Their actions and movements are largely matters of instinct and not guided to any great extent by reason, since the brain of a plant man is but a trifle larger than the end of your smallest finger. They live upon vegetation and the blood of animals, and their brain is just large enough to direct their movements in the direction of food, and to translate the food sensations which are carried to it from their eyes and ears. They have no sense of self-preservation and so are entirely without fear in the face of danger. That is why they are such terrible antagonists in combat."

I was getting weary of this corrupted account of the history of Barsoom's races and was about to correct the inaccuracies in his telling of the ancient stores when I noticed John Carter become agitated, almost as if he were waking from some sort of slumber. I can well believe someone would fall asleep listening to this nonsense. The sudden glanced over his shoulder and the resulting look on his face told me everything I needed to know.

Turning I saw the giant battleship painted in the colors of the black pirates. As I had feared there was no escape. If only the pursuing vessel had been thern, that first flash of hoped as I had turning my head soon died in my breast. The return of dread in my breast was the first indication I had that at some point it had disappeared while John Carter had been my captor. The thought of soon being in the hands of the pirates once again was almost crushing.

Only with the return of danger did I realize I had been hoping we would at least avoid the pirates in our flight and that either John Carter would succeed in reaching Helium or I could convince him to return me to the court of my father. If he had made it to Helium I would have found the spies and through them a way home. But in some ways I had started really hoping for the later option, for with John Carter at my side I could perhaps hasten the retirement of my father and at the same time claim a larger role in the running of the religion. But I need the strength and abilities of John Carter as my mate and the father of my child, the next Hekkador. Now all that was again dashed on the rocks of impending captivity.

The battleship following us had more than enough men to overwhelm and subdue even John Carter.


	15. An Education

### An Education

Even then John Carter was not finished trying to escape. I think he must have been angry with himself for being lulled by the ridiculous story being spun by Xodar. He leaped to the controls and threw the craft into reverse and at the same time dropped below the craft. As I looked up I could just make out the boarding party that had been moments from overwhelming the deck of our flier as they hung in their harnesses.

Once we had passed under the vessel's stern John Carter pushed the speed lever to the last notch aiming our craft at the great propellers driving the large battleship through the air. We shot straight into those giant propellers and I wondered briefly at the sanity of the maneuver. I would have thought using the forward deck gun to damage the propeller would have been more useful, but perhaps he had been right in the calculation. I don't know how long it would have taken to unencumber the gun from the bound pirate at its base. I'm sure Xodar would be doing everything he could to thwart the effort.

I could see that John Carter's plan was to damage the craft's ability to pursue us in the hope we ourselves would not be so damaged we couldn't make our escape. But things did not go according to that plan. Just as we closed in the ship the limb of the sun broke above the horizon illuminating the scene and the hundred pirates looking over the stern of the battleship. They saw the coming impact. But worse than that they quickly snapped their harnesses to boarding tethers and as we streaked into the propellers impaling the side of the ship in the process. We hung there for the brief second or two as John Carter sought to reverse away from the ship. Their angry cry at the damage done served as their battle cry as they swarmed the deck. It came to the point that no one could have breathed deeply much less swung a sword or lifted a revolver.

A space around John Carter appeared with many swords surrounding him ready to make short work of this affront to their supposed superiority. But, Xodar proved to be the Dator he claimed. During the swarming of the deck, he had been freed by a couple of the pirates and again stood head and shoulders above even most of the pirates on the deck.

“Secure them, but do not injure them,” he commanded.

Walking to John Carter, he took the sword, dagger, and the revolver I had returned during our long flight from his harness. John Carter hadn't even bothered to reload it, but for all the good it would have done if he had, it was just as well. Xodar personally inspected the bonds placed on John Carter, checking to be sure they were strong and secure. Me they bound too, then they fastened the two of us together just over an arm's length apart.

While this was taking place, one of the pirates had lifted the smaller craft alongside the battleship and we were transferred to the hulking ship's deck there to be confronted by fully a thousand angry pirates. The ship's discipline kept them from crowding us, but many wanted a view of the two who had led them on a long chase and then had the temerity to damage their might engine of war.

I heard many a comment confirming my fears of what would happen to me were I to be turned over to these devils. Some seemed to desire me only to be able to destroy me almost as if my appearance affronted their manhood. I could only compare this to the behavior and attitude I had encountered in the form of John Carter. He seemed to count me as a captive free to take me to Helium and perhaps into servitude there, but not once had he threatened bodily harm or treated me in any as a slave to be ordered about. And he certainly hadn't treated me as I had seen many of my own race do as they dealt with their slaves, especially the more attractive of their slaves. Sator Throg again came to mind, the harness and metal of the man being in sight. I knew that there was a world of difference between the man who now wore it and the one to whom it belonged.

John Carter's short black hair and thern complexion were the distant second subject of their comments and seemed to confuse them more than anything else. Here Xodar told a few of the higher-ranking pirates of John Carter's fighting ability and his claimed origin. The high-ranking officers then closed in around us as they questioned him about his appearance, his origin, and his abilities.

Here I learned that Sator Throg was dead and that while john Carter hadn't personally killed him one of the escaping slaves with him at the time had. He didn't reveal the name or the sex of that killer during this conversation. After that, they seemed to treat him a little better, as if killing a thern were somehow a noble and desired goal.

I noticed that the harnesses, belts, sheaths, and holsters of our captors were more gaudily decorated than even the highest-ranking Holy Thern. Some of them practically radiated with their own light there were so many jewels. The commanding officer seemed to have a fondness for diamonds as his accouterments were entirely covered with the gems so much so that he practically blinded those about him.

He ordered our escorts to place us in confinement and to then resume their duties. They took us below deck to a small room with a stout door and pushed us inside before securely engaging the lock. I looked around the small space and noticed that at least we had a small porthole to let in light and below that a short bench but not much else. From what I could see peering out that welcome source of light was that we were still drifting in a southerly direction, the damage to the propeller had been severe.

By unspoken agreement, we sat down on the bench, and soon we could hear the sounds of the broken propellers being worked on. I don't know if they had spares and were replacing the damaged ones or if they were having to manufacture something that would get them home but whichever it was it would take time.

We sat there I don't know for how long as I was lost in my thoughts of horror and dread at what was about to happen to me. Especially if any of the hurled taunts and threats had any truth in them. And even if by some miraculous providence I managed to escape the pirates where would I find safety? Only in the court of my father and that was a stiffing safety. Curiously, I did feel safe with John Carter, and that feeling was overwhelming, unlike most any other I had ever experienced. Turning my head, I looked at the man, and an unfamiliar feeling seeped into my breast and . . . other parts.

I noticed him turn his head to regard me, feeling like I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't I lowered my eyes. I could feel my face start to burn.

With a little laugh, he asked "Do you find the study of the lower orders interesting?"

Why did the laugh that escaped my lips sound so tense? Could it be the situation I found myself in, the danger we now shared? Or was it the thoughts, the forbidden thoughts, that were even now flowing through my mind and body?

"Oh very, especially when they have such excellent profiles." To cover my discomfort and to change the subject I asked the first question that came to mind. "Do you know where we are going?"

"To solve the mystery of the eternal hereafter, I imagine," he replied.

If only death were what awaited I might not be so agitated but the taunts that still rang in my ears and the fears of ages of captured thern women weighing on my spirits.

With a slight shudder, I said, "I am going to a worse fate than that."

"What do you mean?"

"I can only guess since no thern damsel of all the millions that have been stolen away by black pirates during the ages they have raided our domains has ever returned to narrate her experiences among them. That they never take a man prisoner lends strength to the belief that the fate of the girls they steal is worse than death."

"Is it not a just retribution?"

The question made no sense to me, how was my feared fate in some way a just punishment, punishment for what?

"What do you mean?"

"Do not the therns themselves do likewise with the poor creatures who take the voluntary pilgrimage down the River of Mystery? Was not Thuvia for fifteen years a plaything and a slave? Is it less than just that you should suffer as you have caused others to suffer?"

At the mention of Thuvia's name part of the mystery was made clear, Thuvia was Sator Throg's slave and had been slated to be the main course at the table of the Holy Therns attending the banquet after the ceremony. The change in the menu was connected to John Carter. I had heard from Sator Throg that he was growing weary of the red girl, but my guards and slaves thought he was growing afraid of her power over the banths. John Carter must have intercepted Thuvia and Sator Throg at some point. After what I had seen it was easy to believe he had overpowered the Holy Thern, taken his metal and weapons, and freed the slave. But back to the question asked, how could John Carter be so blind to the obvious superiority of the thern race?

"You do not understand," I replied. "We thern are a holy race. It is an honor to a lesser creature to be a slave among us. Did we not occasionally save a few of the lower orders that stupidly float down an unknown river to an unknown end all would become the prey of the plant men and the apes."

"But do you not by every means encourage the superstition among those of the outside world?" he argued. "That is the wickedest of your deeds. Can you tell me why you foster the cruel deception?"

Falling back on the doctrine of my father to answer, the one that had been hammered into my head since the day I broke my shell, "All life on Barsoom, is created solely for the support of the race of therns. How else could we live did the outer world not furnish our labor and our food? Think you that a thern would demean himself by labor?"

"It is true then that you eat human flesh?" he asked his distaste at the idea evident.

Again, here the ignorance of the foreigner was displayed, of course, he had not had the benefit of the teachings of the therns, a matter I was hoping to fix at some point. But that seemed a futile hope now. That thought added a touch of sadness to the omnipresent impeding dread laying in my gut.

"Truly we eat the flesh of the lower orders. Do not you also?"

"The flesh of beasts, yes, but not the flesh of man."

"As man may eat of the flesh of beasts, so may gods eat of the flesh of man. The Holy Therns are the gods of Barsoom." This was only logical, all Holy Thern doctrine put the Holy Therns above everyone and everything, all of creation was there to serve us.

The disgust evoked by my words was evident, it hurt that he found our way of life offensive, but this I could forgive, if only I could bring him to my side, to use his unbelievable power in my service. And maybe he could be more, he looked like a thern, wearing the accouterments of Sator Throg had he not fooled even me, and in that, I saw a way forward to included him in my life for a long time to come. But first I needed to bring him to my side.

"You are an unbeliever now," I said as gently as I could, "but should we be fortunate enough to escape the clutches of the black pirates and come again to the court of Matai Shang I think that we shall find an argument to convince you of the error of your ways.”

Here I lost my words, what did I really want, my heart seemed to take over my mouth, and embarrassing as it was the truth came out, ”Perhaps we shall find a way to keep you as--as--one of us."

I looked away, the heat that came then to my face was a surprise to me and I hoped welcomed by John Carter. Would he see? Would he know the secrets of my heart? How could he not?

"I fear that I would ill requite your father's hospitality," he answered, ignoring the unspoken revelation of my heart, "since the first thing that I should do were I a thern would be to set an armed guard at the mouth of the River Iss to escort the poor deluded voyagers back to the outer world. Also, should I devote my life to the extermination of the hideous plant men and their horrible companions, the great white apes."

How dare he? He must not even think of harming the ancestors, our whole existence was keyed on the plant-men, they provided the means of feeding the Holy Thern with sacrificial flesh free of all the life drained. They were the souls of those that had proceeded us and the conduit to eternal life for those that died before completing the journey to the Temple of Issus. I couldn't let him blaspheme like this and if ever we were able to return to my father's court and he still held these beliefs his fate would be sealed.

"No, no, you must not say such terribly sacrilegious things. You must not even think them. Should they ever guess that you entertained such frightful thoughts, should we chance to regain the temples of the therns, they would mete out a frightful death to you. Not even my - my - " I could feel the heat again wash over my body and my face must be red, again signaling my desire. Again, that flushed had betrayed my innermost desires, it was a moment before I could even speak again. "Not even I could save you." I finished rather lamely.

It was with some relief that he fell silent. Apparently, my worlds had given him something to think about. I could only hope that he would see his error and come to accept the true faith of the therns. I hoped he would do more than that and join our ranks at my side.

Just as I was about the broach the subject of my desire for John Carter in plain terms, lay out my hopes and plans for a future with him, and to ask his help to regain my father's court, Xodar returned to take us out of the small cell confining us to our own company. My desires were plain on my face and coursing through my body and John Carter was treating me as if I were a loathsome sea worm without a thought or care of the plight of his companion. At the very least he should have directly addressed those obvious signals of distress and desire. Instead, he ignored and belittled.

Xodar ignored me as he greeted John Carter with a friendly smile, almost as if he felt some sort of gratitude to the man for not throwing him over the side of the flier when I had wanted to finish the job of destroying those who had ended my peaceful existence and killed those closest to me, those few guards and my body servant who were loyal to me. Remembering them I was still determined to finish the job but I had no idea how or when or even if I would get the opportunity.

"Since you cannot escape under any circumstances," Xodar stated, "I cannot see the necessity for keeping you confined below. I will cut your bonds and you may come on deck. You will witness something very interesting, and as you never shall return to the outer world it will do no harm to permit you to see it. You will see what no other than the First Born and their slaves know the existence of the subterranean entrance to the Holy Land, to the real heaven of Barsoom.

Turning to me he continued, "It will be an excellent lesson for this daughter of the therns, for she shall see the Temple of Issus, and Issus, perchance, shall embrace her."

What blasphemy was this? How dare he mock me? I felt the heat that had been there before in my desire for John Carter drain from me and a cold resolve replaced it flowing through my being as I lifted my head high determined not to let this cretin blaspheme again.

"What blasphemy is this, dog of a pirate? Issus would wipe out your entire breed an' you ever came within sight of her temple."

"You have much to learn, thern," replied Xodar, with an ugly smile, "nor do I envy you the manner in which you will learn it."

Turning he escorted us out on do the deck of the massive battleship leading us to the nearest railing encircling the ship. There I was struck by the sight, I had rarely left my temple home and only then under heavy escort and for short distances, in no way had I traveled outside the valley Dor. This was my first sight of the outer world in daylight. The vast field of ice and snow surrounding us in all directions was both terrifying and beautiful. As far as I could see there were just varying shades of white, gray, and black.

I had heard of and seen the trophies of the hunters as they returned with the furs of those animals that inhabited the regions around our domain. The remains of the animals were fed to the slaves and the lower thern. But this was my first time looking out on the terrain those animals must inhabit this frozen wasteland, no wonder they needed the thick pelts to stay warm.

Xodar stood at our side looking over the rail with us, he seemed content to stand guard duty over his prize captive that had cost the pirates nearly a hundred men to obtain, and the man from Jasoom.

"What course?" John Carter asked.

"A little west of south," Xodar replied. "You will see the Otz Valley directly. We shall skirt it for a few hundred miles."

"The Otz Valley!" John Carter's said surprised. "But, man, is not there where lie the domains of the therns from which I but just escaped?"

"Yes," answered Xodar. "You crossed this ice field last night in the long chase that you led us. The Otz Valley lies in a mighty depression at the south pole. It is sunk thousands of feet below the level of the surrounding country, like a great round bowl. A hundred miles from its northern boundary rise the Otz Mountains which circle the inner Valley of Dor, in the exact center of which lies the Lost Sea of Korus. On the shore of this sea stands the Golden Temple of Issus in the Land of the First Born. It is there that we are bound."

As John Carter examined the icy chasms and endless fields of ice and snow evidently thinking about the way out for any escaped slave of the therns he eventually said, "Only by air boat could the journey be made."

"It was thus that one did escape the therns in bygone times, but none has ever escaped the First Born," said Xodar, with a touch of pride in his voice.

As we crossed what seemed to be a deep rift stretching from the ice wall on the north across the valley as far as the eye could reach Xodar commented. "That is the bed of the River Iss. It runs far beneath the ice field, and below the level of the Valley Otz, but its canyon is open here."

We had now reached the southernmost extremity of the great ice barrier. It ended abruptly in a sheer wall thousands of feet high at the base of which stretched a level valley, broken here and there by low rolling hills and little clumps of forest, and with tiny rivers formed by the melting of the ice barrier at its base.

As we watched the terrain flow far below us John Carter pointed to a small village along the banks of a small stream. Xodar, what is that?

With a laugh, Xodar told John Carter, "It is a village of lost souls. This strip between the ice barrier and the mountains is considered neutral ground. Some turn off from their voluntary pilgrimage down the Iss, and, scaling the awful walls of its canyon below us, stop in the valley. Also, a slave now and then escapes from the therns and makes his way hither.

"They do not attempt to recapture such, since there is no escape from this outer valley, and as a matter of fact they fear the patrolling cruisers of the First Born too much to venture from their own domains.

"The poor creatures of this outer valley are not molested by us since they have nothing that we desire, nor are they numerically strong enough to give us an interesting fight. So we too leave them alone.

"There are several villages of them, but they have increased in numbers but little in many years since they are always warring among themselves."

In a while we left the valley containing the villages of the lost souls as Xodar had called them, the thern just called them the escaped slaves, I hadn't known about the few there that had turned away from their journey down the river Iss. But Xodar was right, we rarely used our fleet in returning these to the servitude they had escaped, either as meals for the plant-men and white apes or as servants to the thern. The menace of the black pirate patrols was enough to keep us out of the valley. We always assumed they wanted these slaves for themselves, but it seems that was wrong.

The dark mountains rising out of the ice were now visible and we seemed to be headed in that general direction. Xodar left John Carter and me standing at the rail, evidently, he didn't fear either of us throwing ourselves over the side or that we might try to make an escape. And he was right. Neither of us had a death wish or maybe we were just too curious to find out if what Xodar had said was in any way true.

John Carter broke the silence, "Is what he has been telling me true?"

"In part, yes," I answered. "That about the outer valley is true, but what he says of the location of the Temple of Issus in the center of his country is false. If it is not false. . ." as I contemplate what that might mean causes a wave of horror to wash over me before I recover and continue ". . . oh it cannot be true, it cannot be true. For if it were true then for countless ages have my people gone to torture and ignominious death at the hands of their cruel enemies, instead of to the beautiful Life Eternal that we have been taught to believe Issus holds for us."

"As the lesser Barsoomians of the outer world have been lured by you to the terrible Valley Dor, so may it be that the therns themselves have been lured by the First Born to an equally horrid fate," he said. "It would be a stern and awful retribution, Phaidor; but a just one."

"I cannot believe it," was all I could say, to even entertain the thought is so horrible my mind shies away from the thought, but the fear in my heart, not only for me but for all those that would follow me both unwillingly as a captive and willing down the long corridor to the Temple of Issus.

"We shall see," he said in a neutral voice then he went silent as we watched the rapidly approaching black mountains, which in some indefinable way seemed linked with the answer to our problem.

We approached the odd-looking mountain with the flat top slowing as we approached, I wondered if we were going to land on that apparently flat surface for some reason I couldn't fathom. But, as we topped the mountain it revealed not a flat surface but a very large perfectly round hole that lost itself in total darkness, I fancied that maybe it went straight to the center of the planet. I noticed the walls of the unnatural crater were smooth as glass and perhaps they were the glass produced by volcanoes. Barsoom's volcanoes were all cold and lifeless now but once they had been as active as those found on Jasoom. Their remnants were all over the planet and they sometimes produced a black glass not unlike what was evident in the walls of this shaft.

The hole was so large that the battleship could easily fit within and leave room on all sides and that is what happened next, the great bulk of the ship started descending slowly and was soon enveloped by total darkness, it was then that the lights of the ship were switched on and the glow enveloped the great battleship in a globe or radiance. The descent took a quarter zode and I wondered if my fancy that the shaft leads directly to the center of the planet were true. But we broke into an immense subterranean world of mosses and algae, some colorless and some phosphorescent. And below me was a sea larger than the Korus found in the domain of the therns. No wonder the pirates could hide under our very noses, they were under our feet. I looked from this great height at the ocean below and noticed it wasn't all water, islands were dotting the waters, some larger some smaller, a few had buildings of unusual construction, almost none had roofs, what was the need of a roof when the world had no sky, no wind, no weather?

As we neared the surface of the water there was a great noise from the stern of the craft and I noticed the propellers being folded and drawn within the body of the craft, then looking over the side I saw smaller propellers extended from under the stern of the craft. These smaller propellers were entirely under the water as we settled to float on the surface. The deck of the ship started to vibrate, and we were moving across the surface of this underworld sea.

I confess my face must have displayed the wonder and complete bewilderment at finding this world under the very feet of the therns, our enemies were much closer than the moon and much better hidden.

All over the surface were other pirate craft ranging in size from giant battleships to smaller scout crafts. Almost all the vessels were warcraft of one sort or another, none of the giant freighters of the red races were in evidence. These were pirates pure and simple, taking what they wanted and needed from all the other races of Barsoom.

"Here is the harbor of the navy of the First Born," said a voice behind us, and turning we saw Xodar watching us with an amused smile on his lips.

"This sea," he continued, "is larger than Korus. It receives the waters of the lesser sea above it. To keep it from filling above a certain level we have four great pumping stations that force the oversupply back into the reservoirs far north from which the red men draw the water which irrigates their farmlands."

So at least something beneficial was provided by the black pirates even if it were a side result of keeping their domain livable. The water expelled by their pumps supplied the red men the resource needed to grow their crops and water for their cities. Without that water, all of Barsoom would be the wasteland it would eventually become when the last of the water was lost to space.

I noticed that some of the buildings on the smaller islands were odd in construction, there were no windows at ground level and the windows that were about twice the height of a man above the floor were barred. I assumed these were the prisons where slaves and criminals of the pirates were housed.

I noticed we were headed to the largest island in our immediate vicinity and the large battleship was soon moored against the island's steep side.

At Xodar's signal, six of the crew fell in to guard us as we left the deck of the ship and approached a large oval building some distance from the shore of the island.

Xodar looked at me as he spoke, "You shall soon see Issus, the few prisoners we take are presented to her. Occasionally she selects slaves from among them to replenish the ranks of her handmaidens. None serves Issus above a single year," and there was a grim smile on his lips that lent a cruel and sinister meaning to his simple statement.

While John Carter had refused to even acknowledge my attraction to him, he was the closest thing I had to a safe haven. I stayed close to his side, almost as if we were still bound together, but his time it was hope that kept me by his side and not some flimsy rope. A rope that I had been sure would not have detained John Carter in any case. My hope was stronger than that rope and it was my last good thing to which I was clinging with all my strength. Without that hope, I was truly lost.

The building was roofless as had been most of those we had seen from above, in the center was a very large tank of water and this puzzled me greatly, why would you need a tank of water when water was everywhere?

The pool was not natural as the shape was exactly squared off at the corners making a large rectangle. In that pool at one side, there was some sort of darker shape most of which was just below the surface. It looked somehow menacing. But I had no idea what it might be.

As we stood at the edge of the pool beside the thing in the water Xodar yelled a few words in a strange language. This was extremely odd as all of Barsoom shared the same spoken language, what was the need for these other words? But, soon in response, a hatch lifted revealing an interior to some sort of craft. But where could the craft go except straight up through the roofless building? And even that wasn't going to happen unless the wire net above could be retracted.

"Transmit to your officer, the commands of Dator Xodar. Say to him that Dator Xodar, with officers and men, escorting two prisoners, would be transported to the gardens of Issus beside the Golden Temple."

"Blessed be the shell of thy first ancestor, most noble Dator," replied the man. "It shall be done even as thou sayest," and raising both hands, palms backward, above his head after the manner of salute which is common to all races of Barsoom, he disappeared once more into the entrails of his ship.

A short time late an officer whose harness and weapons were covered in jewels and whose metal must have proclaimed a high rank appeared on the deck of the strange vehicle, we then boarded the vessel and descended to the interior below.

I had thought it a vehicle of some sort but where could it go in this small pool of water, and if it were a flyer it was the strangest flyer ever invented. Why was it mostly below the water? A command was given and the hatch above us was closed and an extra mechanism was in place to secure it firmly, then the whole thing began to vibrate as if some great engine were coming to life. But to what purpose?

John Carter and I were escorted to a forward cabin and the door shut us in, this room had no dividers in this odd vessel and I could see water outside the portholes that lined both sides of this single chamber.

"Where can we be going in such a tiny pool of water?" I asked perplexed.

"Not up," John Carter replied, "for I noticed particularly that while the building is roofless it is covered with a strong metal grating."

"Then where?" I asked again.

"From the appearance of the craft I judge we are going down," he replied.

I felt a shudder pass through my body at the thought, to be totally submerged in water, what kind of madness was this? Who and why would the pirates do such a thing, how could even they brave the thought? Of course, they did inhabit one of the remaining seas on the planet, perhaps the fear of water was not as strong in their breast, but what was the purpose of this intentionally inviting death by drowning?

The vessel continued to sink and sink quickly, was this some fiendish way to torture their captives? Or even a terrible way to execute those that had displeased them? I could believe that except that the crew of the vessel and Xodar and the escort calmly stood guard or sat on the provided benches.

The vehicle kept descending into the darker and darker waters then it began to move. I could hear a noise, something like the great battleship had produced as it had switched drive systems from the areal propeller to something that must act much the same but in water. The wall and porthole I slumped against became warm as if the water outside were hot.

Then we started moving forward and at great speed to judge by the rush of water by the portholes and the sound of displaced water as the vessel pushed through, there was a strange pattern to the light entering through the portholes a strange unnatural quality.

I grabbed John Carter's arm to steady myself as I felt oddly dizzy watching the patterns of light and shadow play along the deck and walls of the chamber. The sensation of movement but no readily apparent reason for it, presently it came to me that we had stopped sinking and had started moving forward. The submerging ourselves in water, headed to an unknown fate, had overwhelmed my system; my body, heart, and mind cried out for safety, for some sort of normalcy. The only one near, who even remotely looked like safety in my eyes was John Carter, John Carter who appeared able to defeat an army without breaking much of a sweat.

I dragged him forward so that we stood several meters away from the nearest pirate.

"Save me!" I whispered, trying to keep my request from the ears of those around us. "Save me and your every wish shall be granted. Anything within the power of the Holy Therns to give will be yours. Phaidor . . .“ did I dare tell him, did he already know, "Phaidor already is yours."

At my words John Carter placed his hand over mine as I clasped his arm, this sign of encouragement was the first he had displayed, and feeling that he must in some way return my regard and desire, the emotions that swept through me then hope, passion, and desire were overwhelming, I quickly looked around to make sure none were paying us any attention I threw my arms around his neck and half lifting half dragging I brought his lips down to mine. His solid body providing a rock to hold on to, to anchor me.

I clung to him as a source of safety. After my kiss, he reached up behind his head and firmly taking each wrist in a hand removed my arms from about his shoulders. He slid the hold from my wrists to my hands and held them between us as he told me the story of his first advent on Barsoom.

It was during that journey under the water that he told his tale of capture by the Tharks, a hoard of monstrous green men, and the subsequent capture of Dejah Thoris from the wreckage of a scientific study fleet. Their escape from the green men with the help of a chieftain's daughter, a forbidden daughter in the society of the Tharks. Their separation, her capture by Zodanga, the wedding ceremony where under duress she married the son of the Jeddak of Zodanga, thus joining the two kingdoms. His arrival with the fighting men of both Helium and the Tharks, the death of the Zodangian leadership and her freedom to marry whom she wished and she had chosen, against all odds, John Carter. That was how he became a prince in the royal house of Helium. It took almost the entire trip underwater to tell me his tale, he was not the best storyteller, at least not in that circumstance. If we wasn't praising Dejah Thoris as the best woman of two worlds, he was comparing me to her and I always came out the poorer. In the end, he said that she was the only one for him, the only one that could be for him.

I had never in my life felt what I was feeling for John Carter, never desired any man as much as I did him, never had I built plans and fantasies in my head as I had with him, never ever even come close to exposing my heart to anyone. But now the first time I had I had had it thrown back at me as unworthy. I was the daughter of the gods and she a mere princess of an inferior race, how dare he deny me my desires my plans, the hurt roused my wounded pride to the point where I wanted nothing more than to destroy that look on his face to destroy his hopes and his dreams.

I backed up almost stumbling, the emotions coursing through my heart, my body brought me close to tears the threat of spilling out here in front of the man who had stomped on my heart, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. To cover my hurt I confess I let my mind and my fantasies of destruction run wild and to distract from the hurt I hurled as many words of hate as I could in his direction.

"Dog, dog of a blasphemer! Think you that Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang, supplicates? She commands. What to her is your puny outer world passion for the vile creature you chose in your other life?

"Phaidor has glorified you with her love, and you have spurned her. Ten thousand unthinkably atrocious deaths could not atone for the affront that you have put upon me. The thing that you call Dejah Thoris shall die the most horrible of them all. You have sealed the warrant for her doom.

"And you! You shall be the meanest slave in the service of the goddess you have attempted to humiliate. Tortures and ignominies shall be heaped upon you until you grovel at my feet asking the boon of death.

"In my gracious generosity I shall at length grant your prayer, and from the high balcony of the Golden Cliffs I shall watch the great white apes tear you asunder."

All these words didn't really help, I didn't feel any better, and I still wanted the man even after all of this, and that hurt even more. Why did I not really hate the man, hate him as I hated the pirates that had slaughtered my loyal guards and slaves? Had his affront not been as severe as those others? Had he not rejected me, the highest-ranking woman on the planet? We could have done so much together.

His only response to my threats my fantasies was to point to the porthole where the swirling waters outside the pirates' vehicle were still evident. And I was brought back to myself and my current circumstances. The fear of the pirates, the unknown future, the niggling possibilities that my religion was as much a lie as that of the outside world. That what I had thought and what I had learned my whole short life was a total fabrication. I reached out and felt the edge of the bench running along the side of the room and carefully lowered myself onto it, my legs felt like they would not keep me upright for much longer and the return of hopelessness took me. The tears that had threatened to break out as I lashed John Carter with my hurt, rejection, and anger found their way down my face then.

I collapsed onto the bench under the forward most porthole and kept my face and tears away from the man who had just hurt me and the crew and guards who might have watched the outburst.

Eventually, I stole a look around me, I noticed John Carter at the porthole opposite mine looking out into a dark that wasn't as dark as it had been. I stood and looked out the porthole myself, the beams of light cast by each porthole of the craft into the water and the reflection off the walls of a tunnel we must be traveling.

After a while, the sound of the driving engines stopped and we came to a stop, then we started our ascent. My relief at seeing the surface of the water break as the porthole first popped above the water but then settled just under the surface. We were not going to die in this crazy contraption. Soon I might wish I had, what was coming, where were we going?

Xodar and his men collected us to escort us off the craft. I was grateful to be away from the scene of my humiliation.

Xodar had said I was to see Issus. Could that even be true? I could NOT be true.

"Come," he said, and we followed him through the hatchway which had been opened by one of the vessel crew. We climbed out to the deck of the vessel and stepped across into an enclosed room, I assumed it was a cavern cut into the rock to provide for the submersible. That vehicle was again in a large rectangular pool of water cut into the floor with only the deck visible above the water, surrounding the pool was a platform and just outside that were the chiseled walls that formed an arch over the pool. There were several openings in the walls, these were dimly lit passages to and from this vehicle connecting this place to the sea.

Xodar and the guards escorted us down one of these a short way which ended at an elevator, the steel cage ready to take us up or down, I assumed we would be going up and my assumption proved correct. The cage was open and the shaft above us seemed to go on forever. One of the guards took the controls of the elevator car and soon we were speeding up the shaft. It didn't take very long to reach the top, the operator evidently loved the thrill of the acceleration and deceleration. So much so that most of us must have left our stomachs far below us.

Soon we were leaving the small building at the top of the shaft and found ourselves in the middle of a most beautiful and fanciful domain, more opulent than anything I had ever seen before, the construction and layout accentuating and at the same time blending the scene before my eyes, it was more than my imagination could ever have dreamed up on its own.

I confess I must have been staring in wide-eyed wonder and thinking a master genius had laid out the plan for the public spaces around. . . and here my eyes moved onto the building that was our destination and the bottom of my stomach fell out and I wondered that I could still walk as weak as my legs suddenly became.


	16. Issus!

### Issus!

"The Temple of Issus," I heard myself whisper, I still couldn't believe, didn't want to believe that the black pirate, the First Born had told the truth, but here before me glittering before my very eyes was a sight I had seen from afar all my life.

Xodar's grin at my discomfort was the only thing that kept me from breaking down, the heartbreak at finding my world was a lie. I would not give him or any of these barbarians the satisfaction of my tears or hysterical screams wanting to break from my throat.

The gardens of the temple were filled with men and women draped in jewels and rich silks and among them serving their wants and needs were the most beautiful of the missing thern women that had been taken over the years, I thought I recognized one or two of them but my life to this point had been one of separation and I couldn't be sure. The red slaves were beautiful, some of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.

That these women, who doubtlessly had been among the highest of their societies were now forced to tote and carry, wipe clean messes and pick up dropped fruit rinds gave me some glimpse as to why I had been targeted. These pirates collected slaves beautiful enough to complement their surroundings, the matchless gardens of the Temple of Issus.

Eventually, we made our way through the gardens to the entrance of the temple, where we were halted by the officer of the guards cordoning off the doors. Here Xodar and the officer spoke briefly, then the two entered the building where they spent some time. My feet were getting tired from standing in one place and I leaned on John Carter's arm, his side I had not left since we exited the elevator above the submersible. In all this he had been my only source of comfort, even as mad as I was at him for his rejection of my heart, still, he was vastly more familiar than any of those around me. His appearance being in all ways thern except for that shockingly black hair on top of his head.

Xodar and the officer reappeared at the door.

The officer's voice was officious and held a bit of court ceremony as he declared, Issus desires to look upon the daughter of Matai Shang, to see if she is as beautiful as rumored, and she is curious to see this creature of another world who has been in his previous life a Prince of Helium.

The line of guards parted to allow us and our guards entrance, again here in the temple the hand of the master designer was evident and the materials used were the finest. The beauty of the temple was almost overwhelming, and I had been reared in the lap of thern luxury. How then must the lower outer world captives view the place? Truly as the heaven promised but denied?

It took a long time to walk through these wonders to a vast chamber at the center of the temple where we were halted in the center of the room. One of the temple officers accompanying us advanced to the large doors at the far end of the room which started opening for him as soon as he got close to them. Here a gorgeously trapped courtier exited the doors and advanced to meet the officer. The doors closing behind him. After some discussion, we were signaled to advance as far as the doors.

Here we were told to get down on our hands and knees with our backs to the door, as assumed the demanded posture the doors opened. We were instructed to crawl back into the room. We were threatened with death if we even took a glimpse behind us as we made our way into the room that was the court of Issus.

I could feel my color rise again as the embarrassment of being backed into the room on my hands and knees went against all my training, my pride, and my high office as the only daughter of Matai Shang. I could see out the corner of my eye that John Carter seemed to be having the same problem, his color was up and the scowl I could just discern told me he found this as distasteful as I did. I wondered that he didn't just spring up, capture a weapon from the nearest armed guard to lay waste to these creatures.

I was still close to him, every once in a while my arm would brush his as we moved. I took what comfort I could at his nearness.

Just as the guard accompanying us signaled that we should halt, I heard a thin wavering voice behind us say, "Let them rise."

"Rise," said our escort, "but do not face toward Issus."

After what seemed an eternity but must have been a very short time the thin voice again spoke. "The woman pleases me; she shall serve me the allotted time. The man you may return to the Isle of Shador which lies against the northern shore of the Sea of Omean. Let the woman turn and look upon Issus, knowing that those of the lower orders who gaze upon the holy vision of her radiant face survive the blinding glory but a single year."

I was frozen to the spot, afraid to turn and behold the blinding glory of the goddess, for at this point I could no longer deny the reality that the pirates served her. I could feel a chill steal over me, my face petrified and unmoving. As if in a dream I slowly turned, hesitation in every movement, I would have liked nothing better than to run, but where would I go.

My only comfort, and scant at that, was the brief contact of John Carter's arm first as I started my turn on one arm and again as I completed the turn on my other. I leaned slightly into that contact as I raised my eyes to take in the sight of the goddess. My arm resting against his I stood there, I couldn't see his face as I was now facing the other direction, the direction of death, I so wished I could seek comfort from him but I didn't want to risk his death by grabbing his arm or burying my head against his massive chest. For there before me was the most hideous sight I had ever beheld.

I do not know what I had expected Issus to look like, some sort of radiance without shape or form, or maybe a glorious being of gold or silver or diamond. But instead, the sight that met my eyes was straight from one of the slave's horror stories of Horz.

I looked at the formation of warriors between me and the thing on the throne and I shuddered, the chill becoming a bone-breaking cold. The woman, for that is what I supposed it to be, was bald as a thern man, but unlike them, her head was covered in wrinkles, and her mouth was empty of teeth except for maybe two. I had only seen a few old men and women in my short life, but none were as old as the one before me not by a millennium or two. Her face was split by a blade of a nose on either side her eyes, sunken deep in their sockets, stared out with the fire of insanity. Her body was shrunken, her wrinkled loose skin draped over her bloated belly, her stick-like arms and legs looking like they had been poorly attached. The fact that she was described by her subjects as holy and radiant and that they served and treated her as if these were true told me they were as deluded as I had been about the mother of our related religions.

I continued to tremble, I could barely stand, the warmth of John Carter's arm was my only comfort. He stood there blissfully unaware of the horror in whose presence he stood.

I couldn't imagine what he might be thinking as he undoubtedly felt my trembling arm against his. I doubted he had any idea of the truth.

The thing on the throne continued in her thin wavering voice, "Let the woman remain. Remove the man. Go."

As John Carter once again dropped to his knees robbing me of my sole remaining link to life as his arm left mine. The officer of the guard escorted John Carter as he crawled away to join Xodar and the other members of the escort that had brought me to face this horror.

Once the doors had closed, I was taken by the elbow and lead toward the throne. I admit my progress toward that meeting was slow, my trembling legs could go no faster and my trembling heart provided little courage. I approached the ranks of warriors who with practiced easy parted to made way through their company. Eventually, I stood at the foot of the throne looking down not daring to meet the eyes of the madwoman on the throne. During my approach, the goddess seemed to be taking pleasure in my display of reverence and awe.

Once I was standing before Issus, she almost appeared to forget I was there, turning to one of her attendants she leaned toward him. "Have those in the garden, whose year of glory has passed, been examined? Are there any fit for my table?"

"Yes glorious one, there a two who will be prepared as you like them, one red and one white so you may choose as you will when you dine tonight." was the response.

Well, why not, just as I viewed the red men of the outside world as beings less than me, why would not Issus view us both, red and white, in the same way? Would I one day be laid out as the delicacy for her supper?

As I stood there, the court officer at my side, she appeared to notice us once more now that her menu for the morrow had been determined.

At a nod from Issus, the attendant told me that the goddess had a few questions and that on pain of death I was to tell her nothing but the truth. If at any time it was even suspected that I was telling her a lie or less than the whole truth I would die, then and there. To make his point he drew his sword and held it ready in his hand.

Still trembling, mostly from the nervous energy at finding my life and my faith jolted to the core, seeing for myself the goddess Issus as a lie at the core of my religion, I indicated my understanding of the consequences of lying or of omitting details of the truth.

I was at a loss; my guts were tumbling about, and my head was swimming with confused thoughts.

The questions came fast, and I wasn't given a chance to answer each in turn, but instead, I was expected to answer them all at the end. How did you come to be here? And how did you come to be in the company of the creature from another world, the stench coming from her mouth was overwhelming and I had trouble putting my thoughts in order. I was still trembling and hesitant in my movements. This seemed to please her, surely, she took it as awe and reverence.

But eventually she grew impatient, "I do not have all day. Speak!"

Startled the words just started pooring out, "I was captured from my temple home by Xodar and his pirates," at the word pirates she frowned, "I was bound on the deck of his craft returning here when John Carter, the man from Jasoom, climbed a mooring rope and defeated the pirates onboard, at the end of the fight he and Xodar faced off and John Carter beat him with one blow and bound him with his own harness."

"Are you telling me the truth? One man defeated a raiding party by himself? That he felled one of my dator with a single blow? I do not believe it, it cannot be true, you will die here and now, and you will be my evenings repast."

"I swear, it is true, John Carter did have some help, me. He untied me and gave me his revolver with which I myself killed two of the -- pirates. And the party was down to seven by the time John Carter appeared having taken many casualties in my capture."

I dropped my head lower and expected the fall of the executioner sword-thrust at any moment. But it did not come.

I glanced up and saw by the look on her face that the news of this did not please her, her face clouded, and the fire of anger kindled, but she did believe me.

I now feared for John Carter's life but I continued the story, "John Cater then made a run for the northern cities intending to find Helium, I wanted him to return me to my father's court, but he would have none of that, he was intent on reaching Helium as he claims to be a price in the royal house there. We were captured by a battleship of the First Born who had caught up to us during the night. In an effort not to be taken John Carter rammed the big ship's propellers. We almost made our escape once again."

I had better start calling them by their desired name and not referring to them as pirates I thought.

"Is this true?" said the goddess sharply.

"I swear it!" I replied. Though what I was now swearing on I didn't know.

She seemed to be satisfied that I had told the truth, that by admitting my own actions in our attempt to escape, by admitting my part in the deaths of two pirates I had given her reason to believe I had left nothing out.

I was told to join the large company of handmaids standing to the side of the throne. There were white and red women all with the same emotionless faces and neutral expressions standing there, I was instructed to stay close to the side of the throne. I still couldn't control my trembling.

As we stood there, Issus, evidently talking to herself fumed at the indignity of a dator bested by a single opponent of a lesser race. It sounded like her anger was turned more toward Xodar than the man who had beaten him. She mumbled that he must not be worthy, that he couldn't be a real dator of the first born, that somehow, he must be an impostor. How had he been allowed to attain such a high rank if a single opponent could best him so easily?

Now it was Xodar that was in danger and I confess the prospect that he might meet his fate at the hands of his beloved Issus made me feel slightly better. Maybe, just maybe my telling the story of my meeting with John Carter would get me my revenge on the last of the raiders who had killed my guards and my..., my slave.

After some time, once again the doors swung open and the sight of John Carter awkwardly crawling backward towards the throne was an ugly sight. A well-made man crawling was pleasant enough, but he should be crawling towards you and not some travesty of away and toward at the same time. Issus must not have a lusting bone in her body only a need to humiliate those around her.

Again, when he reached the same spot as before the escort stopped and told John Carter to rise. Still facing the other way but on his feet, John Carter's appearance was much more pleasing to the eye.

In her thin wavering voice, Issus commanded, "Let the man turn and look upon Issus, knowing that those of the lower orders who gaze upon the holy vision of her radiant face survive the blinding glory but a single year."

My heart sank, I had hoped only Xodar would face this judgment, but I was so very wrong. Once again, the cold chill of coming death settled into my heart. Why did I feel this way for a man who had only recently rebuffed the advances of my own heart?

The utter falseness of those words was about to be revealed to John Carter and his taunting of my faith would be manifestly made truth, but it would also disclose the shame of Xodar's own faith. My only comfort was in knowing that we were all fools together. Every single one, red, white, and black.

John Carter's face almost concealed his shock at finding the divine radiance was anything but. I genuinely believe that he had thought that the being on the throne would live up to her billing. The fact that she was nowhere close to the divine in appearance nor was her radiance any more than the light reflecting off her naked pate.

I was still trembling, my mind was near exhausted in the effort to make sense of the things I had learned in the last hours, my capture resulting in the deaths of all those I trusted, the fight on the deck of the raider's boat, our escape from an asphyxiating death, our flight toward the north and the unknown, our recapture and our journey above, on, and under the water, the ingrained terror of being underwater and the repeated revelations of false religions was enough to drive one mad.

John Carter's one fleeting expression of horror to be quickly replaced by an appraising look at the surroundings, the company of armed warriors between him and the throne, the beyond ancient woman on the throne and I felt his eyes fall on me as I stood there trembling among the other slaves, just one of the condemned cattle.

"This is the man who slew seven of the First Born and, bare-handed, bound Dator Xodar with his own harness?" asked Issus.

My two kills were attributed to John Carter, but in this case, I didn't feel the need to correct the goddess. I might as well be dead for all the recognition I got for my hand in our defeating the pirates.

The truth was that men often took credit for the deeds of those women around them. And even though I told Issus the story as it happened and she would have known better she attributed those kills to John Carter, too. It was a rare man that made the truth of the situation known.

The escorting officer of the court replied, "Most glorious vision of divine loveliness, it is."

"Produce Dator Xodar," she commanded sharply.

As Xodar entered from the adjoining chamber, Issus's eyes fixed on the advancing figure.

Once he reached John Carter and came to a stop alongside the Jasoomian, Issues stared at Xodar only sparing a brief glance toward the man beside him. Her eyes burned with a wave of insane anger.

"And such as you are a Dator of the First Born?" she shrieked. "For the disgrace you have brought upon the Immortal Race you shall be degraded to a rank below the lowest. No longer be you a Dator, but forevermore a slave of slaves, to fetch and carry for the lower orders that serve in the gardens of Issus. Remove his harness. Cowards and slaves wear no trappings."

Xodar froze, standing stiffly. I could not tell if it was fear or shock that immobilized him, not a muscle twitched. I stood hoping for more as the guard roughly stripped his gloriously beautiful trappings from him. I had hoped for immediate death, but this would have to do.

"Begone," screeched the angry goddess. "Begone, but instead of the light of the gardens of Issus let you serve as a slave of this slave who conquered you in the prison on the Isle of Shador in the Sea of Omean. Take him away out of the sight of my divine eyes."

Slowly, stunned Xodar turned and stiffly exited the room. Issus stood and turned to leave the room by another exit. Then remembering John Carter, she turned toward him.

"You shall be returned to Shador for the present. Later Issus will see the manner of your fighting. Go."

My jumbled thoughts continued as the woman left the chamber, I cannot be alone with that horrible creature that had profaned the name of Issus. She cannot be the goddess every thern yearns to meet at the end of their long lives. This cannot be the supreme ruler of life and death. This is too terrible to contemplate and my mind shies away from accepting. My eyes fix on the only being in the room that had demonstrated even a touch of kindness and super-human ability, John Carter.

I already feel in my bones that he is safety itself, that he is worth risking my father's wrath for that this is the one man who can protect me. I cannot be left here - I can't! Maybe I can spend what time we have together with the one man who holds an attraction to me like no other ever has. Maybe I can be happy for just the short time left in this horrible place. Turning to John Carter I can only beg and hope he forgives the terrible words I said to him on our way to this travesty of the thern religion.

Issus leading the way out the side door is followed by most of her slave women, but a few milled about talking among themselves about the events that had just transpired. Her guards followed their goddess, and eventually, the remaining handmaids left. I was alone with John Carter and his one guard. As he turned to leave, I felt my last hope deserting me. When he was gone I would be in this hell of a paradise serving a demon of a goddess. Before they could exit the chamber, I ran after him hoping that maybe I could spend my captivity with him, and not here. I don't know that I was thinking clearly or thinking at all I just wanted to stay with him, my last link to sanity.

"Oh, do not leave me in this terrible place. Forgive the things I said to you, my Prince. I did not mean them. Only take me away with you. Let me share your imprisonment on Shador."

My words were tumbling out of my mouth, almost no thought was in them only my fear of being left behind. How could I make him understand how could I explain? "You did not understand the honor that I did you. Among the therns there is no marriage or giving in marriage, as among the lower orders of the outer world. We might have lived together forever in love and happiness. We have both looked upon Issus and in a year we die. Let us live that year at least together in what measure of joy remains for the doomed." John Carter couldn't know that that year was the normal length of a committed thern joining and thus in truth, we would be following a thern custom, even if it were unwillingly ended by death instead of going our separate ways.

"If it was difficult for me to understand you, Phaidor, can you not understand that possibly it is equally difficult for you to understand the motives, the customs, and the social laws that guide me? I do not wish to hurt you, nor to seem to undervalue the honor which you have done me, but the thing you desire may not be. Regardless of the foolish belief of the peoples of the outer world, or of Holy Thern, or ebon First Born, I am not dead. While I live my heart beats for but one woman, the incomparable Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium. When death overtakes me my heart shall have ceased to beat; but what comes after that I know not. And in that, I am as wise as Matai Shang, Master of Life and Death upon Barsoom; or Issus, Goddess of Life Eternal."

Well, I now knew he was right on that last point, none knew what lies beyond death. As for the rest, well his precious Dejah Thoris was not here, but I was, if we were to live and die here, what matter did it make to any but us what happened during that year.

How could he choose to be alone during this last year? How could he refuse me? How can I survive this place? His words are hard to hear. I hear the conviction in his voice and understand the words but the devotion to one of the lower orders the commitment expressed is a foreign concept to me.

My heart is breaking, but I didn't really know what that was either having never been loved or loving. Or so I thought at the time.

Confusion and a powerful sorrow sweep over me and feeling all the energy drain from body and spirit I stand there.

In the set of his face and the rigid stance as he held me away from him, I saw it was futile, my last chance at a small bit of happiness was gone. I also realized it was foolish to believe that Issus would allow me to leave once she had chosen me as a servant. I was here, alone, as alone as a lonely daughter of an aloof father could be. In that, my life here for what remained of it would be little different than it had been to this point. I was fated to die after six short years, alone and unloved. So be it.

"I do not understand," I said, my last words echoing my thoughts.

Why would he deny me, and him, a bit of comfort in our last year of life? Why was I here, again serving one who only saw me as a means to an end, my father hoped to use my body as the vessel to produce the next Hekkador, and Issus would use it as sustenance, why did everything have to be so cold and remote? I walked toward the door that had taken everyone else and I entered my new life, what there was of it.

Turning at the door I take one last look at the lone bright spot in this horrid place.


	17. The Goddess

### The Goddess

I don't know what I expected my time in the court of the goddess to be like. She was an old woman, a crazy old woman, but old none the less. She spent most of her time sleeping, and when she wasn't sleeping she was wandering around her apartments looking for something but she forgot what that something was, she would have had the slaves find it except she didn't know what it was.

There were lucid moments from time to time but in general, the slaves were to provide her with help eating, moving about, and taking care of her bodily needs, cleaning her up after accidents and necessary functions of the body took place. The slaves could assist her as she moved from place to place in her apartment, but in public, they were to never touch her.

I was known to a few of the thern women, but none were what one could call friends. I had no friends, my father and my former station in life had made sure of that. I was left to my own devices for the most part. There was nothing to do but look pretty, fetch fruit or drink, and if unfortunate enough to be nearby when accidents of the bodily nature happened, to clean up the mess and the goddess.

From the beginning, I could see that the court of the goddess ran on its own, with little help from the goddess herself. I came to think over time that the functionaries of the court kept Issus propped up in her position to ensure their continued power behind the scenes.

That first day I was shown my new quarters, these were not terrible hovels nor plain, the handmaidens of the goddess couldn't be housed in anything but the best, truthfully they were but little different than those I had occupied in my own temple. True, my room was now a single chamber with a bed, some chairs, and a vanity area where I found the cosmetics manufactured in many different cities of the outer world arrayed as well as those made by the slaves of the thern. But the quality of the products and décor were in general better.

After my brief tour of the handmaids’ quarters I was escorted to the nearby apartments of the goddess. There, I was told to shadow the current handmaids attending to the goddess to acquaint myself with my new duties. There were two, one red and one white both beautiful.

I followed and watched, I pushed my fear and my loneliness deep inside. The red woman seemed to be preoccupied with some thought and when I discreetly asked the thern woman she told me that Thetis Dei's time as a handmaid was almost done. That tomorrow she would meet her fate in the arena during the monthly games.

The thern slave’s name was Desphid. I stood beside Desphid watching Issus order Thetis Dei to clean up the mess she had just made by tipping a bowl of fruit on the ground. The round sompus rolling in every direction. I was sure that Issus had tipped the bowl to watch her slave scamper around, serving her master in the last minutes of her life. With the age of barsoomian's being up to one thousand years and changing little in appearance from five to nine hundred and five there was no way to know if Thetis Dei would have a long or short life. Mine I knew was to be short. Six years is not a long time, I know on Jasoom you would count it as about twelve years but even so, it would be a short time and a tiny fraction of the time allotted to most.

I couldn't think about that, I watched Thetis Dei stop scrambling around the floor gathering fruit almost as if she were coming to herself in a dream. She just stopped. She looked up at Issus and smiled a smile that puzzled both Issus and me. But, Desphid seemed to immediately understand what was about to happen.

"I am done. Tomorrow I die anyway, what can you do to me that isn't to be done already? So what if I die today instead of tomorrow. I will not serve you one tal longer. "

I watched the face of Issus cloud over and she glanced at Desphid and me as she hobbled over and struck Thetis Dei across the check. "Wretched worm, you dare defy me? Your goddess? You shall meet your fate on the morrow as planned, but it will be only after I send you to watch those selected for my table tonight being slaughtered. It is true they are only slaves from the gardens and not handmaids, but you will get an idea of your fate. Then you will spend the night trapped with their remains freezing, but you will not be allowed to die there. A guard will keep you alive," she waved her hand at two of the warriors lining the wall and they took Thetis Dei by each arm, lifted her bodily, and carried her from the room.

It seems you begin your duties early, said Desphid, she went to fetch the remaining fruit and put it into a waste bin to be tossed out to the slaves or to be distributed to the slaves held in the temple, I might be dining on one of these sompus myself later tonight.

I looked around at the guards and Desphid on her hands and knees trying to reach one of the wayward fruits under a chaise lounge. I started picking up the easier to reach fruits, figuring that the sooner this was done the better, and I would not be on my hands and knees.

It was while I was in the far corner of the room retrieving the last of the tumbled sompus that I saw one of the guards returning from removing Thetis Dei arrive. He whispered something into the ear of the commander of the detail guarding the goddess. The look of shock on his face roused my curiosity. I tried to listen to their words, but I was only able to catch a word here and a word there. Evidently, John Carter had made a ruckus and some dator named Thurid had been humiliated. This I could readily believe. The captain looked at the foul mood of the goddess and evidently, he determined that if this news were to reach her ears there could be unfortunate consequences for all involved. From Thurid right down to the men escorting John Carter, perhaps the men bringing her the message and any within her sight at the time. The guard captain shook his head and evidently told the warrior to take care of something himself and to not bother the goddess.

My first day in the court of the goddess ended without further incident.

Once Desphid and I had been relieved by a new pair of handmaidens, again a red woman and a white woman, who would watch over the goddess during the night we retired to the chambers of the handmaids. We had our own wing within the temple and there were common areas where the women gathered to talk and play games.

"I noticed that the pair of handmaids that relieved us of our duties was a mixed pair like you and Thetis Dei had been. Is this always the case?" my curiosity aroused by the sight of the newly arrived slaves.

"Yes, when there is an imbalance in the numbers the pirates raid a court of the red men or raid our domain. You know how often they raid our valley, just as often they raid the outer world but there being more small red cities each city is less often hit.

"I know that often they lay in wait for a merchant ship or smaller warship if they catch wind that a princess or other high-ranking woman is traveling.

"Some of the large empires they tend to leave alone, I think they fear being discovered by one of the great nations, but they would never admit that weakness.

"Our numbers are almost always balanced and about sixty total, you were targeted to replace one who was recently sacrificed. You likely wouldn't have known of her, she was of a small lesser temple at the far end of the valley but she was a good sort and I counted her a friend for the few days I knew her, I was captured in the last raid, well the one before the raid that caught you.

"I see you're the only one of the new raid that has entered into the service of the goddess, the others must have been distributed to the dators."

We walked in silence for a while when again Desphid spoke, evidently her own curiosity being aroused by my appearance. "What about you, I see your hair is bobbed short, did you recently make a sacrifice to your annual mate, or was it your father?

"Father."

Here Desphid dropped her eyes and a slight pink color covered her body, her cheeks burning brighter than the rest. "Oh, here I am talking to you as if you were just another thern maiden. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, here I am just a handmaid, just like you. My pride has been damaged beyond repair I fear by the events of the past couple of days. I admit I will likely fall back on my rank, what there is of it, if I get too stressed. That has happened more than once recently, and it seems I have a short temper and a biting tongue when I'm afraid or angry. I tell you this in advance to try to help you understand me in the future, as I fear I will be under much stress for the next year. I hope that you will be able to forgive me when this happens."

Arriving at the common room my presence was met with curious stares and in some cases ill-concealed hostility.

But there were welcoming smiles too, a few from the therns, and even a few from the red women.

One of the red slaves rose and started walking towards me with welcoming outstretched arms, "Come in, join us, I am Belor Faig, one of the next in line to be sacrificed in a few weeks. But before I go please let us get to know our newest sister."

I turned a confused look to Desphid and she smiled, "We all will meet the same fate, we all serve the goddess our allotted time, and most have come to realize that we are the same, red and white, younger and older, just cattle being prepared for the slaughter. You may come to feel as the majority do, you may not. Some hold on to our religion as if it is their only link to sanity. Those you noticed as the ones who view your capture as a disgrace to your father."

Belor Faig nodded at Desphid's words and said, "Come tell us of your capture, there are rumors that it was highly unusual. There are some that even say you almost escaped the pirates. That would be an interesting story to tell."

"You heard most of the important parts when I told Issus today, why do you need to hear it again?"

"Here you are among your own, you can let your feelings be known, you can let the full effect of your capture be acknowledged and here your story will be honored and not be subjected to the gloating faces of the goddess and her warriors.”

I had left out much of my feelings about the slaughter of my guards and slave, my slave as I was now Issus's slave! Oh, how I felt the first pangs of shame for my treatment of the loyal woman.

The story of being stripped and bound was a familiar part of the story for all there, but the advent of John Carter and our battle on the deck of the flier was not. Who and how John Carter came to be there was still a bit of a mystery to me and I said so, but the story of how he and I killed or captured the pirates on their own flier, that was well met and many an exclamation of pleasure was had at the deaths of those that had subjected them to their own misery.

The story of how he single-handily subdued the Dator Xodar was met with some incredulity and I had to swear it was true. At this point, one of the women spoke up and told the story she had heard from a garden slave of how John Carter had done the same to Thurid in the gardens outside the temple, in the middle of a crowd that had been mocking Xodar. With that confirmation the earlier conversation between the guards made sense.

My story finished and feeling slightly better for having included at least some of my thoughts and feelings in the telling of it I settled in for an evening meal with the rest.

Here I learned that the next day we were to accompany Issus to the great games where men of the first-born and the best of the captured warriors of the outside world would fight.

The first-born would be there to prove either their prowess or to be tried in combat for some offense or another, if the first-born won, he was exonerated, if he lost, well obviously he was guilty. But, worse than that, in being beaten by a lesser creature he had demonstrated that he was unfit to be a First Born.

Other entertainment would be slaves set upon by beasts. Among those slaves would be a few of the women present here. They were to meet their fate under claw and teeth as their year came to an end.

But not before one of them was selected for the goddesses table to be led away to the butcher. I wondered if Thetis Dei would be the one selected just to fulfill the goddess's threat earlier.

Those scheduled to die with Thetis Dei on the morrow seemed resigned to their fate, they had watched the same ritual for a year now and knew exactly what to expect. They didn't relish being torn limb from limb by white apes, or ravaged by banths, or just simply struck down by the sword of a first-born butcher, but they were brave souls and would meet whichever fate Issus had planned for them with what dignity remained to them.

A small ceremony to honor those who would die tomorrow was held at the end of which each of tomorrow's sacrifices was held or kissed by each of those who would remain behind.

Each of them had participated in the same ceremony every month since their own capture, they had lost friends and in some cases more than friends. Now was the time to morn, to remember, and to honor these women about to die.

Any sign of anger or sadness on the morrow could court immediate death by the blade of one of Issus's guards. All the mourning would be done tonight for lost friends and companions while they could still be held and kissed. I even witnessed a few tears, that highly unusual expression of sadness.

On drying Barsoom tears are drilled out of us at an early age, each of us had been trained to conserve our water, oh they still existed and it was a matter of great shame when they are forced from us through anger or grief.

As I reflected on my own losses in the last few days, I am not ashamed to admit that a few small mournful utterances escaped my lips as I remembered the women of my guard and my constant companion, the slave whose real name I would never know.


	18. The Games

### The Games

The morning came and the handmaidens were roused to get ready for the game day, all the handmaids were to attend. As I entered the community room the two slaves, one white one red, of the morning shift was just departing to relieve the night shift. The poor women of the night shift would be expected to clean up and freshen their makeup and join the rest of us for the games.

I saw Desphid sitting in a corner eating a sompus fruit, likely one she had picked up off the floor the day before. She saw me standing uncertainly at the door and she waved me over to sit with her.

"I'm just waiting for Belor Faig, she usually eats with me."

"You eat with a lesser creature of the outside world?" I confess my momentary weakness of the previous evening was replaced with my ingrained habit of thinking of the entire red race as nothing but cattle and labor. My rest has restored not only my body but my usual assumptions and views of the world.

The frown on Desphid's face was replaced by a slow smile. "I don't blame you for your difficulty in coming to terms with your new station, everyone here had the same problem. Red and white we all came from lives of privilege. I think that is one of the things that gives the first-born the greatest pleasure, humbling the proud daughters of the mighty. It gives them some sort of perverted satisfaction in seeing those of the outside world humbled in this way, and remember this, to them we are part of that outside world."

I was taken aback a little at the tone of Desphid. Did she not realize I was the daughter of the Holy Hekkador? But she was the closest thing I had to a guide in this new life and I lowered my head in acceptance of her knowledge even though inside my sense of propriety was offended.

"I will take your words and think on them, but I fear I am too much my father's daughter to readily befriend these lesser creatures of the outside. I will do my best to honor your experience and your life here."

"It isn't just my life here, it is yours now too, you would do well to heed my advice in all things, including befriending those you think beneath you. Which in your case likely means me as well as the entire company of handmaidens."

The statement was well-intended, but I heard again the rejection of me due to my former position and a rejection of my authority.

"I hope you and Belor Faig enjoy your breakfast." With that, I turned and strode to the table holding the fruit and other foods that were being provided. I looked and noticed the fruit was past it freshest, the rest looked like it was the leftovers and rejects from the tables of the noble first-born goddess and her dators.

Again, my new life was thrust into my face, my diet of only the best was now to be the refuse of the tables of my captors.

Once we were all fed and looking our best, each painted and groomed to perfection, a perfection that pleased our captors and Issus. She enjoyed having the most beautiful of the outside world surround her and, in her mind,, she outshone us all. Perhaps in her youth that might have been the truth, but that truth was long gone, along with her mind.

We were arrayed on either side of the gorgeous palanquin carrying her to our destination. Here was my first look at male slaves, all of them were red men, none of these were overly large or well-muscled, but they were sufficient to the task. We entered the gardens surrounded by a company of first-born warriors and made our way across them to a towering wall with massive gates set into the wall. Passing through the gates we entered a vast area well-groomed and surround by trees. In among the crowd of first-born traveling in the same direction were both plant-men and white apes but the brutes had been beaten into submission and walked docilely among their masters. I couldn't but see this as further humiliation of the therns. To have the ancestors serve the first-born showed their contempt for the entirety of the theology of the therns. And they made sure to display that contempt in every conceivable way.

Eventually, we entered a great amphitheater already at capacity, the party of the goddess was escorted to her compartments where she would have the best view. Once she was installed the games could begin. Her company of a thousand guards arrayed themselves around the box shoulder to shoulder and three ranks deep on all sides. Right below the box was the highest of the first-born. And before them was the arena. The goddess was well protected from any wild animal or wilder men who might come near enough to do her harm.

We slaves of Issus were to arrange ourselves around her almost as a setting for her radiance, the frame to her masterpiece. There were many more slaves than the sixty or so that shared our common room. It was here that I learned that there were other slaves of Issus, all just as beautiful, all just as high-born, but they had not been selected to personally serve the goddess, not directly. Many of these others served in the kitchens, in the daily maintenance of the residence. They were the cooks and the maids, the table servants, and the laundry. Today every one of them was decked out in trappings of gorgeous leather, silks, and jewels. The entire retinue was shown in a brilliant light at the center of which sat the malignant cancer of the insane goddess.

As we settled in our places the barred cages surrounding the floor of the arena began to fill. In some were wild animals, in other cages large numbers of red men. I thought I caught a glimpse of John Carter in the cage directly opposite. I could only imagine the havoc he would unleash on the black warriors who had been found guilty of some infraction or who were there to test their prowess. I heard a few of the slaves around me whispering among themselves about a young red man who was unbeatable. These women spoke in tones of hero-worship and I could tell they took great pride in the fact that one of their own had sent hundreds of blacks to their death in the arena.

I looked forward to seeing this young man and how he compared to John Carter, who even now I could only think of as belonging to me. His resemblance to Sator Throg, his wearing the harness of a thern, there. . . I caught sight of the diadem mounted on the headband around John Carter's head the gleaming gem all Holy Therns wore. The only white man in the cages could only be John Carter, he was opposite me surround by others waiting to enter the arena. The doors to the cages were left open, the unarmed slaves were thought cowed by the armed guards patrolling the edges of the arena and the wild animals that would soon be unleashed.

As I looked around the amphitheater, I saw each of the first-born surrounded by their own slaves. Every first-born no matter how low had their slaves to maintain their homes, to shop, to cook, to clean, to take care of all the mundane tasks of life. The first-born were outnumbered by their slaves but since all the slaves were women and unarmed the armed men and women of the first-born felt secure.

The first event today was the end of year ceremony for those who had viewed the radiant glory of Issus one year ago. There were ten women escorted into the arena, seven red and three white. Tomorrow their mutilated bodies would be prepared for the tables of the high born. But first, one had to be selected for Issus herself, her body couldn't be mangled or damaged before being presented to Issus.

The largest first born I had ever seen entered the arena to inspect the women. He carefully looked them over, squeezing their flesh to check for plumpness, poking their ribs, eventually, he selected one, this one he led to stand before the goddess.

"I have dutifully inspected and selected according to your criteria the best of the offerings today. This one meets all of your needs and wishes; how do you say?"

Issus closely looked at the woman who had served her this past year as if she had never seen her before, then she nodded her head in agreement.

That done the huge first-born lead the trembling red girl away to the slaughter. I couldn't help but think that in a year's time that might be me, and at the same time, I knew I had consumed my fair share of red flesh.

The remaining nine women were left alone in the arena, but they wouldn't be alone for long. A gate was thrown open on one of the cages and three white apes there sprang into the area. At the sight of their doom, the women huddle together in a futile attempt at protection. I watched Thetis Dei stand with the rest of the condemned and bravely turn a smiling face to Desphid and I briefly wondered at the love that I found on both of their faces as one faced death and the other had to pretend to enjoy that death. It was then that one of the thern girls fell to her knees with her arms outstretched to Issus. The plea for her life plain on her face. Issus leaned forward to get a better look at the coming carnage.

The apes milled about, mostly batting each other away, but eventually, they spied the huddled mass of women in the middle of the arena, and being hungry and trained to rend the flesh of found meals they advanced on the girls with shrieks of hunger and fury.

The anticipation of Issus was palpable, and all eyes were on the coming mayhem, then all hell broke loose, a hell by the name of John Carter.

John Carter flew in two long bounds and was beside the girls in an astonishingly short time. The unconscious guard's sword in his hand, his thern metal and jewels cutting a fine figure. My heart leapt to my throat and I wondered if John Carter was equal to the task of taking on three white apes alone. But he wasn't alone.

The roar of approval burst from the cages to be met with the roar of rage from the theater seats as John Carter's sword neatly removed the head of the fist white ape he came to. The two remaining turned to face the threat, leaving the nine women safe for the moment. Thetis Dei looked up and smiled. She knew the end would be the same but at least here was one who would make that end memorable.

Twenty or so guards entered the arena to take care of this upstart and they advanced on the man whose attention was on the apes. But, as the guards closed in on John Carter there came a second shout and a new player entered the picture, it was a red man, a young red man, maybe about my own age. He stood over the body of the cage attendant lifting the downed man's sword above his head. He was lighter in color than most, but he could be heard as in shouted to the men in the cages nearest him.

"Come, men of the outer world! Let us make our deaths worthwhile, and at the back of this unknown warrior turn this day's tribute to Issus into an orgy of revenge that will echo through the ages and cause black skins to blanch at each repetition of the rites of Issus. Come! The racks without your cages are filled with blades."

As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, not waiting to see if his words had had any effect, he started running towards John Carter and the women clustered in the center of the arena. His leaps and bounds were little short of those that had so quickly allowed John Carter to close on the apes before they could render the unarmed women who were being rewarded for their year of continual basking in the radiance of the goddess.

His words did have an effect as almost immediately there came a howl of fury from the cages as the inmates broke out overwhelming the guards stationed around the arena, the weapons racks were quickly emptied and the mass of armed warriors ran to support the young man.

In the meantime, John Carter had not been idle, his sword had taken care of the remaining apes and he turned to face the charge of the twenty first-born warriors. The women were at his back, most of them huddled together. I noticed Thetis Dei looking around almost as if she hoped to find a weapon herself.

The first-born closing in on John Carter and the warriors breaking from the cages appeared to be in slow motion as compared to the youth. John Carter stood awaiting the charge to reach him, but before the score of warriors could touch John Carter the young man bounded into the rear of them and laid about him with such ferocity that I think the first-born must have thought a dozen men were attacking.

As the first-born turned to deal with this threat John Carter leapt into the fray attacking from his side. The battle should have been over quickly and not in favor of the two outsiders. The first-born outnumbered them almost ten to one, but these were not two ordinary warriors. John Carter, I had seen fight before, but that was on the cramped confined deck of a ten-man flyer. Here he was able to use his marvelous speed, agility, and leaping ability to avoid close engagement and at the same time fall on the first-born with surprising strength. In this, the young man while not as fast or strong used the same tactics and with equally efficient results.

As I watched I came to wonder if they were in some way related. Their physique and style were so similar, except for the obvious difference in their color there was little else to differentiate the two.

At first, it appeared that Issus was ready to watch the slaughter of John Carter and the women he fought to preserve. I confess I was amazed and confused at his actions. Again, he rushed to the aid of others even when that aid was obviously futile. But was it really all that futile? With his strength and speed, he was easily a match for ten warriors, and now add the efforts of the red youth they were quickly eliminating the first-born warriors that had been sent to kill him and the women.

It was then I noticed Thetis Dei stoop and pick up a fallen sword from the first-born and join the fight. She was no mean swordsman herself. While not nearly in the league of John Carter or the young man, she was the equal of a first-born warrior. More than one seeing her pick up the sword had turned to take care of this annoyance only to find themselves closely pressed in a fierce attack and quickly falling to her skill. I was amazed at the swordsmanship displayed by one of the lesser races. First my own body servant and now one of Issus's. The difference was in their choice of targets, my slave had fought to save me, Thetis Dei fought to save herself and her fellows from the warriors of her owner. I felt a pang of regret at the loss of my Slave.

Issus signaled to her guard captain to send all but her personal guards into the arena to deal with this uprising. The stands emptied of the guards and all except those standing in their ranks surrounding Issus's throne entered the fray. The armed prisoner's own war cries mixed with those of the first-born and there was mayhem as the guards were met in detail as they entered the arena. I looked around and the first-born and their slaves were closely watching the drama unfold before them. Most enjoying this unexpected entertainment and spectacle. The daring, the skill, the tactics, the chance encounters with favored warriors of the past year, and the blood was being observed and commented on. I could hear the whispered conversation of a couple of red handmaids as they fretted over the safety of their young warrior. You could almost think he belonged to them in some way, that their attachment to the youth in their hero worship allowed them to think of him as their own.

During the whole battle John Carter fought side by side with the youth. The conflict had raged for half an hour when the two of them through shouted commands as they fought in the melee became the leaders of a forming army of prisoners. Their formation taking the shape of a circle of swords facing outward defending the nine women who had been the spark of this rebellion.

Many bodies littered the floor of the arena, but even a cursory glance revealed the majority were those of the first-born. As the prisoner's army formed and they became more cohesive in response to the commands of John Carter their effectiveness was visibly improving, fewer and fewer prisoners fell and more and more guards met the fate Issus had condemned the women at the center of it all.

At another signal from the guard captain runners set off among the spectators and the nobles of the first-born unsheathing their swords descended into the arena. Soon there would be an overwhelming mass of first-born that not even the massed circle of the prisoners could survive.

Looking over the heads of those closest to Issus I watched her face cloud in anger and hate. That her guards were proving ineffective and that it was a rag-tag army of slaves that were showing what could be achieved against the first-born with the right tactics and leadership. As I continued to watch I thought I saw the beginnings of another emotion, one I doubt had bloomed in the breast of the goddess in eons, that of fear.

It was at the appearance of doubt on the face of Issus that appeared to spark a change in the tactics and objectives of the slaves in the arena.

Originally, they had hoped to sell their lives as dearly as possible. That they had already achieved. The body count heaped on the floor of the arena attested to that.

But now they seemed to have a new idea, or rather, John Carter seemed to have a new idea. I watched as he organized fifty or so of the red warriors to form a new inner ring around the women. Thetis Dei and a few of the other women now held their own swords and they arranged themselves just behind the new ring with the remaining five women in the center.

I watched as John Carter quickly addressed those that had become the leaders of this new force and then he returned to the outer line forcing himself to the forefront of the ring right in front of Issus's throne.

Looking directly at Issus his voice could be clearly heard as it boomed above the din of battle. "Down with Issus! Follow me to the throne; we will reap vengeance where vengeance is deserved."

John Carter's declaration was immediately met by the battle cry of the young warrior at his side of "Down with Issus!"

This was met by a full-throated second battle cry from all sides of the outer ring. "To the throne! To the throne!"

Here Issus's guard captain signaled the outer two ranks of Issus's guard into the arena to protect the goddess. All that remained was the single inner ring of guards. At a signal from the commander that ring contracted around the throne, many of the handmaids now found themselves outside the protection of the guards.

At John Carter's command, the throng of warriors flowed around the women and their guards in the center as water flowed around a rock in a stream. The impromptu army advanced as one surging towards the throne. Their relentless advance trampled the falling first-born before them. At the sight of their goddess being threatened, many of the citizens of the first-born began filling the arena to check John Carter and the prisoner army's advance. But it did little good, John Carter and the young man beside him acting as the spearhead cut through the mass.

As the army of prisoners came close to the barriers surrounding the arena, I could hear him command "To the seats, some of you! Ten of us can take the throne."

At this command, the army splintered into smaller units and swarmed the seats. The remaining first-born warriors in the audience met and mostly fell to the advancing red warriors. The sounds of yelled commands and the screams of the victims of the flashing swords rose and fell throughout the arena. The pent anger and fear of the red warriors spurred them to kill all the first-born that came before them. They had resigned themselves to death but before they left this place they would take for company as many of the first-born as they could.

John Carter, his youthful lieutenant, and maybe twelve other men advanced on the throne. Issues leaned forward on her throne, I wondered if she might drop dead from a stroke, but she started screaming curses down on the advancing warriors as they met the remainder of Issus's guards and the nobles that had occupied the section right in front of the throne. The most favored of the first-born.

The guards shifted to meet the advance and I found myself just behind the newly formed line of guards and high-born first-born. I stayed near the throne, I wanted to be there to witness the demise of Issus should John Carter manage to get that far. I was also filled with a strange pride as I watched the man from Jasoom dressed in the harness of a Holy Thern advance on the putrid being who styled herself the goddess of life and death on Barsoom.

As John Carter and his warriors advanced, the handmaids were in a state of confusion, did we dare hope that John Carter would be successful, or did we fear he would be successful, what would be our fate at the hands of the victors whoever that might eventually be. I looked around and noticed not a small number of the red women were picking up swords of the fallen. They advanced on the rear of the guard where they quickly took down many of the inner ranks but then they were quickly cut down themselves. Among these was Belor Faig.

Desphid went rigid at her death and leapt to retrieve the sword from Belor Faig's dead hand, but before she could turn to use it one of the guards cut her down. His warning look was enough to keep the rest of us from following her example.

Her pale body had fallen across that of her red friend, the contrast was stark, but the blood that flowed from their wounds, that was the same, as it mixed and mingled around their bodies, nothing was distinguishing thern blood from that of the red woman. The blood of both was the same bright red. The guard that had struck them both down took up a position to keep an eye on the remaining handmaids while still defending the throne. I stood nearby staring at the bodies of the women, the only women whose names I had learned in my short time among the handmaidens were dead all except Thetis Dei and from the looks of the arena, she would soon join them. A strange feeling stole through me at the sight, I found myself leaking around the eyes and I brushed the tears from my eyes and kept a lookout for what I could see of the advancing John Carter. He remained my only hope for escaping this profane place.

John Carter and the young man were getting closer and closer, the bodies of the first-born strewn behind them providing a barrier that others found difficult to traverse without falling to the remaining blades of John Carter's companions. Their detail of a dozen was pressing forward inexorability drawing closer.

The oppressed slaves in the amphitheater, seeing the attack on Issus advance, took advantage of the warriors' absence as they had been drawn into the fight and began rebelling themselves. Following the example of the handmaids who had taken arms the slaves armed themselves and fell on their oppressors. Their cry of "Rise slaves!" started in isolated clusters but soon it echoed through the arena in a deafening roar.

The fighting around the throne ceased as the warriors both first-born and those of the outside nations were confused by this cry. Taking a step back from the fighting they looked around at the slaughter taking place in the seats. Most of the women had taken a dagger or sword from the fallen men in the seats or snatched a dagger from the bejeweled harness of their owner. Both thern and those of the outside world fought the women and the warriors of the first-born, joining the fighting alongside the men of the outside world.

The attacking slaves in places could only find heavy ornaments which they used as bludgeons or if nothing were to hand their hands and teeth. The repressed resentments from their long abuse breaking free of their self-control, their fury unleashed.

The uncalled truce around the throne quickly dissolved into fierce fighting once more. The warriors seemed to take heart from the diminishing but still present battle cry of "Rise slaves!" and their advance continued. But the closer they got to the throne the more men they lost, the continual battle had exhausted all but John Carter and the young man at his side who both seemed to be cut from the same durable cloth, forged from the same indestructible metal.

The time inside the arena seemed to both stand still and last forever. The day wore on and the arms of the advancing red warriors were tiring. As I watched, one by one the red men with John Carter fell, all except the exceptional young warrior by his side. Whose style so matched that of John Carter that one could be excused for thinking that they witnessed a master and his pupil. Still, they came on, advancing on the frozen form of the ancient first-born. The guards and high-born falling before them.

As I watched, the entrances to the amphitheater were soon flowing with reinforcements from the temple and surrounding city. They were making quick work of the slave women and the remaining warriors in the seats. John Carter might still reach Issus and strike down that abomination, but it would be at the cost of his and the young man's life. A strange pride filled my breast, and I knew without a doubt that this was a man worth taking a risk on if I could only bring him around to my side. To be close I moved as close as I could to where he was engaging the line in front of Issus. The old woman seemed to be frozen in fear and loathing, staring with unbelieving eyes at her doom advancing in the form of a man from another planet dressed in the harness of a Holy Thern of the Tenth Cycle. That must have caused some sense of impending retribution within what remained of her soul.

It was then that he almost lost his life, the guards around Issus had been cut down to the best and freshest, but there were so few of them. They still outnumbered John Carter and the youth, but I had seen them advance through larger numbers and dared hope that they would succeed. But baring that I hoped that he could escape to my father with the information of what awaited the therns in Issus's heaven and that together they could find a way to rescue me from this nightmare place. His strength and will seemed unending and unbeatable. Once freed from here, between us we could take the thern nation. Then who knows what we might be able to do.

It happened right in front of Issus, John Carter had finally made a mistake, he had wedged his sword in the body of a first-born dator and in a repeat of the scene in my own temple when my personal slave had wedged her sword exposing her side to the thrust that had killed her when I was captured, his side was now exposed as he wrestled with freeing his sword.

The very warrior who had struck down Desphid was about to strike down John Carter. I couldn't allow that to happen, I couldn't watch another fall to the same cruel fate, the capricious nature of war. This time I was behind the attacker instead of behind the defender, as the blow descended I reached out and grabbed the elbow of the hated warrior, it provided enough hesitation to allow the young man at John Carter's side to run his sword through the killer of Desphid and Belor Faig. And thus, one more of the first-born met my revenge even if it was obliquely.

As the warrior fell John Carter released his own sword helplessly wedged in the body that had nearly cost him his life and deftly took the sword from the falling warrior that his companion had struck down with my assistance.

I came face to face with John Carter and the surprise on his face was reward enough for now. I had seen that the fight was now hopeless, there were only a few of the original slave warriors left in the seats engaging the advancing reinforces from the city. Soon they would be dead, and the reinforcements would swarm John Carter and his companion.

My voice was strong, and my purpose clear I had to make him see the futility of this attack and hope that I could use him and the youth to effect their escape from this horrid place. And eventually, return with a thern fleet and warriors to rescue me.

"Fly, my Prince! It is useless to fight them longer. All within the arena are dead. All who charged the throne are dead but you and this youth. Only among the seats are there left any of your fighting-men, and they and the slave women are fast being cut down. Listen! You can scarce hear the battle-cry of the women now for nearly all are dead. For each one of you, there are ten thousand blacks within the domains of the First Born. Break for the open and the sea of Korus. With your mighty sword arm, you may yet win to the Golden Cliffs and the templed gardens of the Holy Therns. There tell your story to Matai Shang, my father. He will keep you, and together you may find a way to rescue me. Fly while there is yet a bare chance for flight."

He didn't seem to hear my plea and looked once more to Issus. Issus was still petrified watching all that was unfolding before her with uncomprehending eyes.

"Down with Issus!" he shouted. This was a signal for him and the young man to join the fight once more, a couple of new guards had appeared to defend Issus in the respite. The two first-born went down almost immediately.

I stood and watched as John Carter and the young man stood face to face with Issus.

John Carter raised his sword to strike down the author of so much misery, but she suddenly came alive. Issus's ear-piercing scream filled my head as she backed up and quickly turned to flee. Some hidden mechanism must have been built into the throne for as she fled a dark opening appeared suddenly and Issus jumped for the opening. John Carter and the young man taken by surprise recovered and made to follow her, but the shriek had alerted several to her plight and they advanced on John Carter and the young man from behind. The heavy pommel of a sword staggered the young man and John Carter turned to catch his falling form.

Some of the reinforcements had reached the throne furious at the affront to their goddess, John Carter with the young man held close to his side face this mob alone. I was encircled by the throng of new guards and since I was unarmed and still protected by the position of handmaiden to Issus, they left me alone.

I watched as the mob advanced on John Carter, I watched as he took a step back to find only empty air behind him as a new trap door had opened behind him. He and the unconscious young man tumbled into the pit that had swallowed Issus a few moments before. And then he was gone. Suddenly, without warning, gone. My heart sank and numbness drew a curtain across my mind shutting out what it didn't want to think about.

The newly arrived guards round up the remaining handmaids and escorted us down the ramp that only moments before Issus had used to escape. We were for the most part untouched by the conflict, we had not been the target of the outraged slaves, and after the first mad attempt by those brave enough to raise a sword and were cut down, we had not participated. I knew I might have the wrath of the goddess fall on me for my part in saving John Carter from a killing blow, but I would deal with that when or if it came.

As we came to the entrance of a side tunnel the guards halted the company of handmaids and we were eventually joined by Issus returning from down that dark tunnel.

She looked pleased with herself as she joined her guards. It was almost as if none of what had just transpired had made any impression on her.

“That one will die the death I chose for him, alone and afraid and starving. Come attend me as we ready for a feast proclaiming my victory over the blasphemers. We all shall dine well tonight.”

I looked to the other slaves and saw that we were to treat every word out of her mouth no matter how much a lie or divorced from reality as absolute truth. The look on the face of those who had been longest in her service gave hint that any unbelief would be severely dealt with.

Issus stalked the tunnel surrounded by her newly arrived guard company, none of these men had had to face the sword of John Carter or the young man with him. None of these men knew of the horrors of the arena nor did they realize how close their deity had come to death. The eternal goddess was not so eternal.

Again, religion was being exploited to serve the few and subjugate the many using the power of their own minds against them. Shame flooded my being as my part in the elaborate ruse burned my soul. It was too much, I feared I might go mad if I dwelled on the truth. My mind shied away from these thoughts and settled on the fact that I was, to use a term of the outer world, a princess of a great nation. I was worthy of being served by the lesser races and I was to be honored and even worshiped by the lesser breeds. My only excuse for falling back on this was my indoctrination and my young age, I was only five years old. That, and the madness that awaited me if I pushed too hard into the mental confusion and pain of the truth.

But the truth was planted and lurked in the hidden recesses of my mind. Yes, I was young, but I was a full and willing participant in the deceitful practices of both the thern and the first-born. Yes, the first-born preyed on the thern, but in turn, the thern preyed on the rest of the planet.

The other surviving handmaids and I followed along behind the guards and Issus. Issus seemed to know the way and was content to lead her retinue. Eventually, we emerged within the precincts of the temple. The tunnel had been used from time to time in the past to enter the arena almost as if by magic. It wasn't used much now, but it had served Issus well in providing both a means of escape and entrapment. I wondered if John Carter was still alive. The words of Issus seemed to indicate that he was, but in a cell where he would eventually starve. To meet such a fate seemed cruel and unbelievable for one such as him and even for his young companion.

Issus was picked up and carried in an ornate palanquin by a fresh set of carriers. These were of the few smaller red men that I had seen in the service of the first-born. I later learned that these were brave men that had earned some respect from the pirates raiding the lesser nations of the outside world. Most had already been slaves, but they had fought hard and with skill when their owner's daughters had been captured. And they themselves were considered spoils of war, trading the ownership of a Jeddak, or Jed, for that of the first-born. There were few of them in the service of the first-born and most of them served the goddess their allotted year. This lot had just seen the goddess of life eternal for the first time today as they replaced those killed in the arena. They had one more year of life. They might outlive me by a day, they might not, depending on the schedule of the monthly games we all might die together.

Two of the surviving handmaids were selected to serve the goddess as she cleaned up and rested for the feast tonight. She continued to heap praise and congratulate herself on her victory over the unbelievers.


	19. Abandoned

### Abandoned

The feast came and I was told by one of the remaining thern slaves that the ranks of the dators that attended Issus were many fewer than usual. And it was highly unusual for the handmaids themselves to be served along with the dators. We handmaids took the places of many at the tables that would normally have been the wives and daughters of the dators, but many of them were also gone, consumed by the slave revolt earlier in the day. The servants from the kitchen looked on the handmaids with hate in their eyes.

When I heard one of the red handmaids comment to another that the kitchen must have received many more bodies mangled in the fighting than normal and that a large number of those bodies would recognizably be bodies of the missing handmaids. The loathing on many of the kitchen slaves' faces seemed to the speakers to indicate that they thought all of us should be dead as well, that we were traitors to our sisters in service.

Little did they know the real situation, but never did any who wanted a target to hate bother to find out the facts.

I noticed I didn't have an appetite for the main meat dishes. Most were too noticeably the remains of our fellow handmaids, and now there was no way to know which were from the red race and which were from the white race. They all looked the same, and to the first-born, they were the same, we were the same.

I wasn't sure if I would be able to eat any of the sacrifices at home even if by some miraculous chance I were restored to my father's court. I stuck mostly to the fruits and vegetables and I noticed my fellow handmaidens did the same.

Thankfully Issus and the first-born took little notice of us, I think most of the surviving dators and their wives and children were just thankful that they had had a reason for not attending the games and ignored those of us who had survived the ordeal out of some sense of shame.

That and the fact that members of the lower orders were allowed to dine at the same time as they must have been in some ways unbearable to their pride, and so the best thing to do was to pretend we were not there. Why we were there I think was Issus’s not so subtle rebuke of her subjects’ weakness. By allowing the slave army to rampage as they had had exposed that weakness, belied their invincibility, reduced their worth to being not much if any than the slaves that served her.

As I watched the first-born consume the game provided bounty, I couldn't help but wonder if I was watching one or another of them eating Desphid, Belor Faig, or even Thetis Dei. I wondered if I was going to be able to keep my food down as these thoughts came unbidden to trouble my meal.

Desphid had in a short time become the closest thing I had ever had to a friend. And within a day, she was gone. I wondered if that had anything to do with me, was I unworthy of friendship that the capricious unknown gods had taken her from me so soon?

I sat there alone, surrounded by the remaining handmaidens who were surrounded by the first-born, feeling as alone as I had ever felt.

At my temple, I had not appreciated the companionship of my guards or my own body servants.

When I was thrown over the shoulder of that raiding first-born pirate I had lost all. But then John Carter had arrived, and he became my rock, my sole source of companionship and hope.

Then he was taken away only to return and almost succeed in striking down the hideous creature that all Barsoom worshiped. The false goddess of eons past.

In the interim those I had met and come to know by name had died in that arena, leaving me behind to fend for myself among the first-born.

His disappearance down that trap had been sudden and unexpected, and I felt his loss keenly. I felt alone, deserted, abandoned. All my hopes had gone with the capture and eventual death of John Carter, he had seemed so invincible.

  * \- -



The next morning the depleted numbers of the handmaids gathered for our morning breakfast, there were many fewer than the day before and every person I had met and knew by name was now dead.

I looked around at the demoralized faces as the women sat together staring at nothing, alone in their thoughts, trying to recover from the horrors of the day before.

The silence was oppressive, I found some fruit that looked edible and took it to sit at the same place as the day before, the seats around me were empty and I could feel tears form and drop from my eyes as I remembered the companions of a day. A single day.

Our solitude was interrupted by the arrival of a guardsman. It was too early for the scheduled shift change and the two slaves that had served during the night were not with the man.

“The two handmaids serving Issus have met their end at the hands of the mighty Issus, I have been instructed to retrieve two of you to replace them.” His words rang in the room but he eyes were focused above our heads looking at or for what none of us knew.

With this statement, he selected the nearest thern and the nearest red woman, not by looking at them. All the while the guard had stood in the door, he had averted his eyes.

“The nearest thern and the nearest red woman are to accompany me,” was all he said. All present looked around to determine who that might be and the two nearest looked at each other with some doubt and fear on their faces.

“Why do you not look at us?” asked one of the selected women.

“I do not wish to see if you have been mourning the loss of your companions, it was this that lead to the deaths of those you replace and I would not want to report seeing the same here.”

At this news, hastily the two removed all traces of their tears and checked each other's appearance for signs of distress. They quickly fixed their makeup, each applying that to the other since no mirrors were handy, covering all evidence of their tears.

The stone faces they assumed would be their armor for the day and I guessed they were even then pushing all emotion into the recesses of their mind, just as I would if I were in their shoes.

The guardsman had withdrawn to stand with his back to the room keeping his eyes unseeing and ignoring the hasty repair to faces.

Each of the selected slaves assumed the untroubled composure valued by Issus in her handmaids.

I could see by the posture and little signs from the guard and the two women that they might not survive Issus's wrath if any report came to her ears of what had just happened and I could tell that he and they had seen enough death in the last day to last him and them for a while. Each was now dependent on the other for survival.

The silence of the tomb returned as the guard and the women left to enter the presence of Issus, there to serve her every whim and perhaps to die.

Shortly two women from the kitchen came to collect platters and utensils. They had been up the night with Issus demanding refreshments all through the night.

Once the women, who were as beautiful as any in the room of handmaids, assured themselves that only the handmaids were present they took what was left of breakfast and sat down to eat before clearing the room and returning to the kitchen.

As they ate their own breakfast in the sanctuary of their sister's company the transformation that came over their faces was surprising. Their smiles and their evident excitement contrasting severely with that of the somber gathering and the stone faces they had presented on their entrance, having just come from cleaning up the breakfast service of Issus.

That spark of excitement entering the room kindled the curiosity of the rest and soon all, including me, were gathered around the table where the two new arrivals had seated themselves. Their first few bites were being interrupted by the curious demands for an explanation of their evident delight by the rest.

Presently, after getting a few bites down the two women told the tale that had that morning been reported to Issus.

"John Carter has escaped!" said the thern maid of the pair and the joy in her lowered voice could not be missed.

"How can that be?" escaped my lips before I realized the thought had formed in my head.

"None knows how John Carter and his young companion, ..."

"Carthoris," interjected the red woman with pride in her voice,

"... managed to escape the cell where they were to have starved."

John Carter and Carthoris, the young man whose fighting so mirrored that of the Jasoomian? The similar names, could it be? Was Carthoris John Carter's son?

Here the red woman took up the report, "However they escaped that cell, they made their way to the pool where the submarine had just brought more reinforcements to put down the riot and they bluffed their way back to their prison island on its return journey for more warriors. They were escorted back to their prison on the island Shador. There they joined with their fellow prisoner Xodar."

The thern smiled, "That bluff was especially galling to Issus. That her guards had been so gullible embarrassed her. John Carter and the young red slave, Carthoris, putting themselves back into the hands of their jailers should have been the end of their adventure. But it wasn't. Even now the unfortunate officers who had to bring the news to Issus are in a cell awaiting next month's games. They are to be joined by the officers on duty during the night of the escape."

The red woman again took up the narrative, "They all mysteriously left the prison, stole a boat, and flew to freedom, but not before causing the death and destruction of men and ships as they went."

Again the thern added her commentary and fleshed out the bare bones reporting of the other, "That it had proved to be ridiculously easy for them to escape their cells and the island they were imprisoned on made a mockery of the first-born and Issus was livid at the mystery of their departure."

The two were now holding hands for comfort, their red and white fingers intertwined. They kept their voices low and the rest of us, the few that remained after the horrors of the day before surrounded them encouraging them to continue their report.

"Since they took Xodar with them, Issus believed he must have suborned the guards to let them all leave the island. She couldn't believe they would have escaped in any other way and why take along Xodar unless he was necessary to get past the guards. We watched the results of that thinking and their lifeless bodies even now hang from the shackles in her private torture chamber where she took the last of her morning meal."

The look of revulsion and horror on both of their faces told more eloquently than words that those guards’ final moments were not pleasant to behold, nor I suspected to experience.

That she couldn't believe John Carter and the youth I now knew was called Carthoris would have any trouble escaping their jail was insane. And knowing John Carter, it was his honor that took Xodar with them, he would not leave someone behind to face the wrath of Issus alone. But a small inner voice said to me _'yet here you are.'_

The red woman interrupted as if she wanted to move on from the remembered sights of the dead guards, "The three of them apparently swam to a nearby anchored scout flier, it was reported to be very swift. With some skillful flying and against the odds they avoided capture as they made their way to the entrance of the underground sea, it is reported that at least one of their buoyancy tanks was damaged in the pursuit and it was only their unexpected use of speed, skill, and luck as they flew straight up the shaft to make their escape that allowed them success."

Again, the thern, “Many who tried to emulate them crashed into the sides and burned causing those behind to do the same and several large battleships have become wedged in the shaft preventing further pursuit. I understand that even now they are just clearing it and sending out the fleets to scour the planet for signs of them.”

All of us, red and white, was pleased with this news of the death and destruction of many of our captors as they tried to prevent John Carter's escape. But we all knew too of the efficiency of the raiders.

I hoped John Carter and his young friend found their way to Helium.

  * -



Over the next few days, the story of the escape was a favorite pass time of the slaves in our quarters. The number of guards had been diminished with the riots and the purges as Issus sought to place blame and fault on those around her.

Only on the outer entrances to our quarters were there now to be found guards, none ventured inside our domain during these few days. I think to avoid any chance of having to report improprieties and thus cause more death. In Issus's current state that death could as well include the guard as those reported.

I played the scene of their escape in my mind from time to time for enjoyment and I admit the hope that he would return for me if he were able.

At night I dreamed of being in their party as they escaped, as they flew straight up the shaft at top speed shooting like an arrow. To be long gone by the time the scouts and larger warships had been able to clear the shaft. Looking back to watch the death and destruction of the few scouts that had tried to emulate the feat of flying straight up the center of the shaft and ending up as smears along the walls, the wreckage and dismembered bodies falling to the sea below. Far from being a nightmare the dream was welcomed when it came.

It was reported that the sea of Omean was almost empty of the warships that usually anchored there. They were out searching for the three, the only people in all the ages to have escaped the first-born. The hidden glee of us slaves was directly opposite the anger of the first-born, we saw hope while they humiliation.

John Carter was alive! Alive and free! There was hope still. In my fantasies, he flew to my father and explain the horrible situation with the first-born.

That would be the best course of action for me, though I wondered if he would find as chilly a reception there as he would likely find in the outside world.

Religious superstition is a powerful shackle. Would the thern receive the news that their religion was just as false as that they themselves fostered on those of the outside world?

If John Carter were ever to reach the outside world again it was likely that he would be put to death for breaking the eons-old prohibition from returning from the Valley Dor.

The thern priests would make sure of it. There were thern temples dotted about the entire civilized world, there the never seen priests communicated the doctrine of the Mysterious River Iss, the Valley Dor, and the Lost Sea of Korus to persuade the deluded creatures to take the voluntary pilgrimage.

That journey swelled the wealth of the Holy Therns, adding to the number of their slaves.

Slaves who became both skilled labor and eventually meat for the table.

My own people would never allow John Carter to spread the truth, he would be branded a blasphemer and his death would be demanded by the faithful. The deluded faithful, just as I had once been deluded by the first-born.

I started to see clearly now, the first-born used the thern to gather the wealth of the planet and then took it from the thern in their favorite past-time. The pillaging of the thern temples.

I suddenly remembered the scrolls written in blood that seemed to appear out of thin air at the most secure and holy of our temples, these instructions were obeyed without fail. Now I knew there must be some means, likely a secret tunnel, that allowed the first-born to deliver those words of Issus to my father, her faithful servant.

I felt my face burn again but this time with anger mixed with shame. How could we be so foolish to miss the fact that we were being manipulated just as easily as we manipulated those of the outside world?

But the more I thought about it the more I concluded that John Carter wouldn't trust Matai Shang and if I were to be realistic there was little doubt that my father would just imprison him and his young friend and have Xodar killed on sight.

No, John Carter was even now trying to reach Helium and his wife. I hoped he would remember me and find a way to affect my rescue. I had saved his life more than once, that had to count for something.

He seemed to hold honor above all else, would he consider himself indebted to me in any way? The more I thought about It I came to doubted he would consider my efforts worthy. During the stories of taking the flier he had not even considered my contributions worthy of comment, why would he consider my efforts worthy of reward?

In this, the men of Jasoom must be blind.

I knew from my slaves there were many mixed units in the navies and armies of the outside world and that both men and women considered themselves as comrades in the service of their homes.

Even my own thern guards had been a contingent of the larger fighting forces of our race.

The first-born seemed to have the same blindness as John Carter, the men and women held to strict gender roles, the men fighting the women running the home businesses.

I knew there were cities with rulers who collected women as hostages and concubines in their efforts to control territories around them. It was true that all lands, all titles, were passed through the women of a family. A man without a daughter was a man in danger of losing his kingdom.

Oh, there were cases where sons took the titles of lesser divisions within a kingdom, but the kingdom itself passed through women. There were instances where if a woman had only sons and her husband was strong enough and loved enough the daughters of their sons became her heirs.

I was in somewhat the same position, only my son could become the Holy Hekkador, my father could father another daughter, but as long as I was alive the title descended through me. Another daughter would take time and proof of my death would be needed; this would delay his plans.

If by some chance I produced a son at any time, my son would become the Holy Hekkador, me being the elder daughter.

My capture was a fortunate stroke of luck for my father, any delay in his plans to join his sister Issus was a good thing for him, but not so much for me.


	20. Captives

### Captives

Issus's pretense of omnipotence continued in public, but privately she was vindictive, her anger and fear-fueled hatred were unleashed on her handmaids and her guardsmen. More than one met an untimely and gruesome end when her mood darkened or some slight mistake or facial expression gave offense.

I was fortunate enough to not be called to serve her during her most vicious outbursts. Since losing Desphid I had studiously not befriended any of the remaining handmaids, which seemed to be a good decision as many uncontrollable tears were shed during the reign of terror. All were inured to the thought of death at their allotted time, but the sudden unexpected deaths were taking a toll on nerves and appetites. Slaves red and white would cry themselves to sleep some nights, many missing friends that had unexpectedly died during the day for some slight mistake or glance of the eye.

It was several days after John Carter's escape that I was called to serve Issus, I was paired with a red handmaid named Seltic Kormi, and I was greatly displeased to find that I had inadvertently learned the name of one of my fellow handmaids. I felt that Seltic Kormi would not have long to live now that I knew her name.

It was that day of our service to the goddess that news came of John Carter, Carthoris, and Xodar. They had not been captured, but something almost as interesting had happened. Two women related to him had been.

An audience was hastily called and though the number of handmaids was much smaller than when I had passed through the same audience chambers only a dozen days before the same processes and procedures were followed. We handmaids arranged ourselves around the throne and strove to be the setting for the divine beauty of the goddess. We were all too aware of what might happen if we didn't play our part in that charade.

The two red women were escorted into Issus's presence crawling backward on their hands and knees as instructed, their every move betrayed the curiosity mixed with uncertainty. At the signal from the guard, they stop crawling.

"Rise," said their escort, "but do not face toward Issus."

As Issus observed them as they stood there with their backs to the throne the chamber guard captain approached to give a statement of their capture.

"Holy mother Issus, during the search for the escaped slaves John Carter, Carthoris, and Xodar, we came upon these women separately. One appeared to be making the journey to the River Iss, the other was hiding in the foothills near the ruins of an ancient city, yet both claim to know John Carter. One of them telling us that she was recently with him and his escaped companions."

Being one of the handmaids on duty I was standing behind Issus's right shoulder, from this angle, I could see what I could not when I stood in the place of the two women or when I was situated further away during my other times attending an audience. A device was laid into the floor at the foot of the throne that provided Issus with two images of the captives, one was focused on their face the other gave a view of their whole body.

The thin voice issued forth in her imperious tones, "These women please me, they shall serve me the allotted time. Let these women turn and look upon Issus, knowing that those of the lower orders who gaze upon the holy vision of her radiant face survive the blinding glory but a single year."

I watched closely as the women turned, both with my own eyes and stealing glances at the device embedded in the floor, in each there was a brief flash of revulsion that must have closely matched my own reaction when I had turned. Each schooled their faces into impassive neutrality in an instant and stood awaiting the pleasure of the goddess. As I viewed their faces and form I could admit that each would be right at home in the midst of the beauties collected planet-wide in the court of Issus, they each rivaled the most beautiful women currently in the group, no, of anyone I had ever seen alive or dead in the collection of slaves held by Issus.

"Let the one who was most recently with John Carter speak, I would hear of her most recent time with him.""

The woman standing to the right spoke up then. Her voice and face familiar but I couldn't place either at the moment. As her gaze swept over the women surrounding Issus I thought I saw her gaze briefly pause as it reached me.

"I was with John Carter a few days ago, he and his party were resting for the night after escaping from your realm, their flier had been too damaged in the escape to continue and they had landed near the ancient city where Tars Tarkus, my companion, and I had taken refuge.

"But search for water in the city was interrupted when Tars Tarkas was discovered by a band of Warhoon. My companion hid me before the Warhoon had seen me. As he turned to meet the horde Tars Tarkas told me to hide until what must happen was finished and then run as far from this place as I could.

“My companion fought the Warhoon and was buried under their numbers and dragged away. As he had requested, I followed his last wish. I made my way out of the city alone. Not long after that that I stumbled on the camp of John Carter, his son, and one of the black pirates. They were all sleeping, none on guard, they were exhausted from their ordeal and thinking none would find their cold camp in the brush of the foothills of a deserted city they had slept soundly. That is until I arrived and discovered them myself as I searched for a place to hide and rest myself.

"I told them of Tars Tarkas's capture and John Carter went to confirm his death or to rescued him if by some chance he survived the beating. Tar Tarkas, the Jeddak of the Tharks, and John Carter have been allies and friends for years and John Carter couldn't leave even a dead body for the Warhoon to mutilate. But he found him alive and when the two returned to Carthrois, Xodar, and me, we set out once more for Helium riding stolen thoats.

“The Warhoon pursued over the next two days. They had just caught up to us when I become separated from the men. They had stopped to fight the Warhoon as a delay and to give me a chance to escape on a thoat that had been frightened into running. I was unhappy that they hadn't allowed me to stay and die with them.

"The runaway thoat carried me some distance before it threw me, as I was preparing to return to my companions your first-born captured me. It was from them I learned that three of Helium's largest battleships had engaged the Warhoon and I presume rescued John Carter and his companions.

“The party that had captured me was from a small ten-man scouting flier and I heard the leader tell others that it would be better to return with the news of John Carter's whereabouts and to take me captive to see if I would please Issus."

During her story, I came to realize that the woman standing before Issus was Thuvia, Sator Throg's slave. The same Sator Throg whose harness John Carter was wearing the first and last time I saw him. I could only speculate but I assumed John Carter had been the reason for the menu change after the ceremony that fateful day.

My stomach turned at the thought that had things gone normally I would have dined on this woman that night. I must have turned a shade whiter and given some sign I was distressed. Thuvia glanced at me and I think a brief flicker of recognition passed through her eyes.

Issus looked at the woman for a moment and I wondered if she would have Thuvia struck down right there for informing her of John Carter's escape to Helium. Her face gave nothing away.

"And what is your name, where are you from?" the calm weak wavering voice asked as if commenting on the weather.

"I am Thuvia, Princess of Ptarth, formally a slave in the house of Sator Throg a Holy Thern of the Tenth Cycle."

Turning to the other woman.

"And who are you?”

"I am Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, wife of John Carter, and mother of Carthoris," the pride and power in that voice was clearly evident, here was a woman who would not, could not, be frightened into submission. Her bearing and demeanor regal and at the same time approachable. A woman who tickled my memory of somewhere else. I was confused by the sensation.

Issus leaned forward at that news, while I couldn’t see her face, I imagined the malevolent smile that must have appeared there. Even from behind I could feel the intensity of her gaze. Her head tilted down, and she seemed intent on getting a better look. Both with her own weak eyes and using the device embedded in the floor providing a clear and close view of the woman's face. A face I could easily see from my vantage.

Here before Issus was a route to revenge. Revenge on both John Carter and Carthoris, the authors of her current situation. I did not envy Dejah Thoris, but at the same time, I saw a way to have John Carter for myself, and I wouldn't have to be the one killing his wife.

"And how did you come to be here?"

"I was on my way to the River Iss with my friend Sola and a few loyal guards when your pirates crewing several battleships descended on us. My guards were slain and Sola and I were captured. It was on that battleship that I met Thuvia when she was captured and thrown into the same room. Talking to her I learned that I had narrowly avoided a horrible fate at the hands of the plant-men and white apes or being captured by the thern as a slave. I also learned that my husband John Carter had freed her from thern captivity. Along with the stories of Xodar, Carthrois, and John Carter who had told her of the cruel fate of the thern at the hands of the first-born. The masters of life and death no more knowledgeable than any other on the face of the planet."

So here before me, in the clutches of Issus was John Carter's avowed preference. Dejah Thoris, his only love. Jealousy spiked in my breast and a curious mixture of joy and sorrow bloomed alongside.


	21. Slave Princesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have read "The Gods of Mars," you know most of what is in this chapter already.

### Slave Princesses

The new slaves arrived with their guards in the common room of the handmaids. Up close each was more beautiful than possible. The guards glanced around and left, leaving us to greet our new members.

Seltic Kormi standing near me whispered in my ear, "You have competition for the most beautiful handmaid now, though I think it would be close and a matter of preference in the end. I don't think I have seen three more beautiful women together in my life. It will be hard for Issus to match you three in her collection any time soon."

Absent-mindedly I replied, "Be that as it may, I would gladly break this collection up and return us all to our homelands." I don't know why I phrased my response in such a neutral tone, I would just as soon I was the only one saved.

"You are not the only one. But, it is probably not a good idea to voice that thought even here," whispered Seltic Kormi.

I glanced at Seltic Kormi and nodded at the reminder to keep such thoughts to myself.

Leaving my side Seltic Kormi approached the two newcomers, "I am Seltic Kormi, I regret to welcome you to our company. I will help you with any questions you might have, and I have a warning for both of you. Issus is looking for ways to get back at John Carter and Carthoris even if by proxy. That is why the two of you will join Phaidor in having to be extra careful in your efforts to avoid provoking Issus. I also suspect that you three might be given some of the more odorous jobs in the future."

Thuvia glanced at me then, "So it is you! I was unsure, never having been close enough to the Holy Hekkador's enclosure during the games and entertainment. How came you here? And why would Issus want to punish John Carter through you?"

Caught off guard by the question, I answer as directly as I was able, "I was captured during that last raid on the thern. John Carter captured the vessel I was being held captive on. We almost escaped and were on our way to Helium according to John Carter but Xodar, a first-born dator that I wish John Carter had let me kill, distracted us while a battleship stole upon us during the night. Even then, we almost escaped but we were overwhelmed by numbers when we were boarded."

"As for why Issus might think John Carter could be punished by threatening me, we were captured together, we fought together, we became close. Issus separated us by selecting me as one of her handmaids and put John Carter in prison. Otherwise, we would have continued to stay together, it was our wish to stay together. John Carter cut a fine figure in Sator Throg's harness and I told him we could escape to my father's realm and he would be welcome."

"I believe John Carter would have eventually come to my side when he realized that my love was the superior choice. That the love of a goddess must surely be more than that of a lesser being. I also knew that he would never escape the thern."

Here I saw Dejah Thoris's face cloud and Thuvia glanced at her new companion. It was not lost on me that Thuvia had taken Dejah Thoris's hand during the last of my statement.

"John Carter would not have stopped trying to reach the side of his wife who stands before you," the fire in Thuvia's eyes was intense, and I confess slightly frighting. "He would not have in any way come to regard you as a superior choice to his princess. I understand your love of the man, he does have a certain way of projecting protection and seems to be invincible. He has a habit of rescuing people, me included. I understand the allure, but I also understand honor and integrity. I know who John Carter loves, and while that does not stop me from loving him, it does prevent me from harming him or any that he loves. Love is not selfish, but I wouldn't expect a thern to understand. Everything you do is motivated by selfishness. As it seems are the first-born."

The other woman then spoke up in a firm but not unfriendly voice, "John Carter is my prince, my husband, the father of our child Carthoris. We have chosen each other and my faith in his commitment to us is as great as my own to him. I understand your loving of him. how could I not? I would think all who know him come to love him in one way or another. That or they come to hate him intensely."

Thuvia stood holding Dejah Thoris's hand and narrowed her eyes as she regarded me, the three of us having declared our love for the same man were now unsure how to proceed.

Seltic Kormi had watched this as had most of the others in the room, the uncomfortable looks plastered to their faces spoke of their embarrassment at witnessing the confrontation. Tentatively Seltic Kormi asked, "Is there anything that the rest of us should be aware of, and are you three going to cause us all problems?"

All three of us shook our heads to indicate the negative to both her questions.

"Good, you three stand the greatest risk of not lasting this next year, maybe not even this next day, but the rest of us have new hope and we don't want you to unnecessarily endanger us before our hoped-for rescue can come."

"What rescue," was my surprised response.

Dejah Thoris and Thuvia smiled and glanced at each other.

Seltic Kormi stood there looking like she dared not voice out loud the newborn hope blooming in her breast, but she said in a quiet voice, "With the escape of John Carter and Carthoris some among us have begun to think they will return with a mighty fleet and end the first-born and maybe the thern too."

I started as I realized that was a possibility. It was more likely John Carter and Carthoris would be put to death immediately for returning from the journey down the River Iss never mind neither having actually set out to reach the Valley Dor via that means nor the Temple of Issus intentionally. But, having come to understand the will of John Carter and after having watched him lead the revolt and almost kill Issus, then to hear of his escape, it was not impossible that a mighty fleet would show up at any time.

Seltic Kormi continued, "Even the thern women in our company are hopeful. They also fear the possibility, they want to be rescued but they do not want the destruction of their homes. But now all of us have that kernel of hope, so, whatever problems you three have, please try not to involve the rest of us. We know it should be useless to hope, but never the less, hope we now have."

Thuvia turned to Dejah Thoris, "If John Carter is in Helium and has come to learn of your intention to take the journey down the River Iss I know the thern would be his first target, but he would not leave this place untouched. The deception being played on the thern offends his sense of honor I'm sure."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, he kept telling me it was a just punishment for the thern that we had been duped just as we had duped the outside world." I was surprised to hear myself reveal his thoughts on that matter. "But, the more I understand of this place and Issus herself, the more I have come to realize it is Issus herself that has constructed this whole charade through the messages written in blood that appear mysteriously on our most sacred alters in our innermost temple. She lures the rest of the world to herself through us her willing servants."

Realizing I had acknowledged thern fallibility and thus was undercutting my own argument that my love would be the superior I turned and left feeling as alone as I ever had. I envied Thuvia and Dejah Thoris's closeness. They both acknowledged that they loved John Carter, why did they find solace in each other’s company? Shouldn't they be at each other's throats? Just as I would gladly rip out Dejah Thoris's for getting between me and my goal.

Later that evening the company of handmaids gathered as usual for the evening meal, it was then we learned that four of our company had perished on the whims of Issus during the day, two thern women and two red women had met their fates at the hands of the sadistic tortures of Issus, None present had first-hand knowledge of what had happened but the latest two who had just been selected walked out of the hall with trembling knees. The rest of us wondered if we would see them again.

During the meal the two new arrivals were asked the usual questions by those who had not been present before, questions of who were they, where did they come from, how did they come to be here.

Again, their stories were told and at Dejah Thoris's nod Thuvia began her story much further back than she had just that afternoon. We learned that she had taken the journey down the River Iss in response to the death of her mother, she had wanted to join her, and being fairly young she had not been ready to say goodbye to her.

She explained her arrival, the plant men and the white apes, the strange call that had called creatures to kill and consume the new arrivals, she described her capture by Sator Throg who had been on the high stone balcony on the watch that day and her eventual abuse at his hands, here I first learned the absolute depravity of that Holy Thern's household, it had not just been Thuvia that had been abused and violated, many a lesser thern woman along with many slaves had either met their fate at his hand or retired to a secluded temple to avoid him. Thuvia told of her being thrown to the banths for resisting Sator Throg’s advances never once being a willing or even compliant participant always fighting, this deprived him of the absolute domination his nature so desired.

The surprise then when she through her voice had tamed the banths and from then on she became a source of income for Sator Throg as she was displayed and her talents used to entertain.

I had seen many of these performances and had been amazed and yes entertained. Of course, I had not had to pay to see them being who I was.

Some of the thern women exclaimed then that they too had seen her perform and they always wondered how it came about that Thuvia had learned to control the beasts, any banth, even those she had never met before.

Hearing how Sator Throg had come to fear her power over the beasts she had been condemned to have her blood sacrificed to the plant men and her body to be used as part of the celebratory meal after a sacrifice at the Holy Hekkador's temple complex. At that comment, my stomach turned over and the sensation was a surprise and unwelcome. I had known she was to be sacrificed but to see her sitting here now so alive and telling her story. The thought of her gone had hit an unexpected nerve.

Her rescue by John Carter as he and Tars Tarkas battled the mysteriously appearing banths in that trap in the cliff face, her aid to him and he, in turn, freeing her and the other condemned slaves.

She told of their journey through the caves and tunnels under the thern capitol, of her killing Sator Throg and her realizing that John Carter was almost identical in appearance except for the flowing locks and harness of the thern.

Her demonstrating that the hair was a wig and the harness of Sator Throg easily transferred to John Carter, he could easily pass for the dead Holy Thern from even close encounters.

Their journey towards the gardens and eventually they hoped beyond the walls was long and circuitous as they sought to avoid patrols and the more populated sections of the underground system.

Their discovery and her deception as she took control of the situation when they were discovered, and all their companions killed. Only John Carter, Tars Tarkas, and Thuvia surviving the hail of bullets having been asleep and so out of the line of fire. Her ordering the lesser thern in the name of Sator Throg who was standing before them to dispose of the newly killed slaves and the body of the real Sator Throg.

Realizing that it wouldn't be long before the leader of the lesser thern would bring someone in authority to investigate the unusual situation she urged her companions to hurry to the gardens there to wait for night and a better chance to escape.

As they headed to the gardens, she called the scavenger banths to her and commanding them to not harm either John Carter or Tars Tarkas lead them all towards the gardens there to sow confusion and aid their escape.

Their surprise at discovering the attack of the black pirates as Tars Tarkas, John Carter, and she emerged from the caverns, the carnage of the banths on all in the gardens and their attempt to escape on a flier too small to lift them all.

The story of how John Carter had sent Thuvia and Tars Tarkas into the air by removing his weight from the flier after setting the controls to high speed and due north.

I listened more closely, trying to understand this slave of Sator Throg who in the end killed him in the pits under the capital of the thern. Avenging not only herself but all the others who had suffered at his hand.

Thuvia continued, "Neither Tars Tarkas nor myself were familiar with the controls of the little vessel, the controls as they had been set by John Carter before he lightened the load got us over the ice cap but in our ineptitude, we ended up drifting, this we did for two days before we decided to abandon the vessel and look for the nearest waterway on foot.

After a time we came to an abandoned ancient city, we decided to head to the central plaza where the green hordes in their wandering set up water collection and well systems to provide for them and theirs the next time they visited the place. It was here a horde of Warhoon spotted Tar Tarkas, they did not see me since the quick-thinking Thark had pushed me inside a door where he told me to hide until the Warhoon left and then to make my way to Helium if I could."

"Tars Tarkas battled the Warhoon killing many of them eventually their numbers prevailed and Tars Tarkas fell bleeding, the Warhoon took him with them as they continued to the central plaza. I didn't know if Tars Tarkas was alive or dead, but I thought most likely dead. The Warhoon likes to take the skulls of their victims and hang them off their belts. I thought that was the likely fate of the mighty Tars Tarkas.

"Honoring the request of Tars Tarkas, I escaped the city then and to my surprise found John Carter resting in a range of low foothills nearby. My happiness at finding John Carter alive was in the extreme I confess I fell on him with many kisses and I was overwhelmed by my changing fortunes. It was only after he gently reminded me of his love for Dejah Thoris that I managed to control myself, then I noticed the others with him. They turned out to be Carthoris and Xodar, both of which had watched the whole display of affection with some embarrassment, but theirs couldn't match mine as I discovered my audience. Here I came to be introduced to Dejah Thoris's and John Carter's son.

"After the telling of my story, John Carter had to be sure of Tar Tarkas's situation. Was he alive? Was he dead? If alive, he couldn't leave him in the hands of the Warhoon. Both. Carthoris and Xodar wanted to go with him but he said that one could succeed where more could not.

"While we waited for his return Carthoris and Xodar told me their stories. First Carthoris and his lust for adventure and his being captured by the first-born. Then of his captivity there, of Issus and the true nature of the whole religion of Barsoom. That the thern were just as deluded as the rest of the outside world. He told of his father's appearance in his prison block but not knowing who he was. Of the riot and the escape. Xodar told of his part in the raid on the thern, his capture of the daughter of Matai Shang, and the unexpected arrival of John Carter on their small cruiser. Then his humiliation, his demotion, and his conversations with John Carter as he tried to convince Xodar of Issus's true self. That she was not the goddess but merely a mean old woman. He told of his reluctance to accept that, but the eventual truth of it dawned on him as John Carter first lead the revolt then with Carthoris had escaped the pits to come to find him and then to easily escape their prison walls and take a flier. The same flier that was damaged and had come down near this deserted city.

“Carthoris seemed to be slightly stunned at my appearance out of nowhere and my familiarity with his father was a mystery. I told him the story of John Carter and Tars Tarkas rescuing me and the other slaves from the clutches of the treacherous therns just as we were to be put to death, over the course of my story he nodded in understanding as he intently looked at me I assumed to try to ascertain the truthfulness of my story. When I had finished, he just said, that sounds like him. I've seen as much in my short time with him.

"Other stories were told and I came to understand the young man who had grown up in the shadow of a man he had never met, how he had sought to become the man his father had been. He had been blessed with many of the qualities of his father, he was quicker, stronger, and faster than any other he had met in his short life. He sought to exemplify the same courtesy the same sense of fair-play and the same magnanimous treatment of the conquered. Unfortunately, he had also inherited the same wanderlust and lack of common sense that kept others out of unnecessary trouble. He had come to be captured by the black pirates as he had explored the polar cap in his search for the fabled Valley Dor.

“After some time and to our great relief, John Carter and Tars Tarkas arrived back at our camp mounted on the great wild beasts used by the green hordes, they had with them mounts for all of us and we lost no time in breaking camp, mounting and putting distance between us and the cruel horde of the Warhoon.

"We were fugitives from the first-born and the Warhoon, headed into the great plains of the dried oceans. We traveled all that night and half the next day before stopping to rest the beasts and ourselves. Having hobbled the thoats I volunteered to take the watch while the others slept for an hour or so.

"But it wasn't long before I spied near the horizon a dark moving line which I assumed was a column of the mounted Waroon warriors searching for us. When I roused Tars Tarkas with his greater height and keen eyes he confirmed my suspicion and added that they were traveling at high speed.

"Mounted once again we raced for our lives across the dead sea bottoms all the rest of that day and the following night, every glimpse we had of the pursuers placed them closer and closer. They were gaining, towards morning we could hear their accouterments clanking as their high speed jostled their swords, lances, rifles, and the metal studding their harnesses. As the sun broke over the horizon it was discovered they weren't more than eight hundred meters behind us. At the sight of us, a great shout rose from the massed horde.

"We were a few miles from the ravine out of the sea bottom into the surrounding hills and we made for that as fast as our exhausted beasts would carry us. It was then that my mount stumbled and I would have gone down with it but for the quick reflexes of John Carter as he caught me and swung me up behind him on his own animal. With nothing else to keep me from falling I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist I could feel my heart beating against his broad back.

"The others thoats were less burdened than ours and so they were in advance of us and we were approaching the hills and ravines and perhaps safety but the Warhoon warriors were closing in faster, I saw that our thoat was slowing and showing signs of collapsing soon. I feared that John Carter's only chance was if the thoat carried a lighter burden. I kissed his shoulder in farewell and told him I did this for him, then I slipped off the back of the thoat and turned to meet my fate.

"I should have known better, not only had John Carter pull around and seemed intent on sweeping me up again, but Carthoris had seen the situation and was already rapidly returning. He dropped down beside me and before I knew it I was on his thoat headed for the hills. Carthoris and John Carter stood dismounted awaiting the charge. The last glimpse I had before entering the ravine was all four of them standing shoulder to shoulder ready to sell their lives dearly for my sake. I am unashamed to admit that the tears flowing down my face clouded my last sight of the four.

"As the thoat careening through the ravines twists and turns I heard the report of a great gun, like those found on battleships of the nations of barsoom. My heart leaped into my throat with the hope that John Carter and the others might be saved from the horde by a friendly nation.

“My hope was to be dashed almost immediately when my stumbling beast went down, as I recovered, I found myself looking at a party of black pirates. A fear bloomed then that the guns I had heard were those of the raiders and not a friendly nation. I would have been extremely surprised at the appearance of the black pirates except that I knew they were here looking for John Carter and his party.

"Xodar had explained some of the truth of the pirates and I knew we were not headed for the Thuria, but rather to the lost sea of Omean. I drew my dagger hoping to avoid the horrors of the court of Issus.

“Carthoris had explained but Xodar had provided detail to the debased practices of the goddess. I had no desire to trade thern captivity for that of a mad-woman masquerading as the supreme being. But, I was quickly and efficiently overcome by the warriors.

"I was dragged aboard their small cruiser that had landed not far away and keeping to the ravine made their way back to the main fleet of the first-born. Observing their desire to remain hidden, I abandoned the thought that the guns had been from a ship of theirs and again hope for John Carter filled my breast. It must have been another nation; John Carter might even then be safe from recapture.

"I sat tied to the forward deck gun listening to the scouts report to the dator in charge. I learned that there were three of the largest Helium battleships nearby and I was happy that it was the very nation John Carter was a prince of that had come to his rescue. Tars Tarkas, Xodar, and Carthoris were now safe and that was a comforting thought. They were at least safe from the Warhoon. It was only after some time that I remembered the decreed ruling of the thern temples that all returning from the Valley Dor would face punishment, That punishment being immediate death. Xodar had told me this too was part of Issus's plan to keep the flow of supplies and slaves from the outside world open. I knew the punishment for returning from the Valley Dor, and I knew via Xodar how the whole scheme was orchestrated by Issus. The goddess who isn’t any more divine than I am.

"When the small cruiser I was on joined the twenty or so battleships out searching for John Carter I was interrogated and eventually imprisoned with Dejah Thoris and Sola. Sadly, almost as soon as I met Sola she was gone, pushed over the side during our last night of searching. We were at the borders of Helium when we turned back. The chance of discovery by the great fleets of Helium had become too great."

Seltic Kormi turned to Dejah Thoris, “And how did you come to be a captive of the first-born?”

Here Dejah Thoris looked around the room and her face softened as she did, I looked around and noticed the arrayed beauty of the handmaids both red and white watching with mixed expressions of hope and fear on their faces.

Then she began, "I had hoped to keep most of this to myself, to take it unspoken with me to the land of peace and hope, there to reunite with all my loved ones who had passed before, perhaps even my beloved husband and son. But, it seems that land is a lie. A lie I would greatly like to blame the thern for but here too they are as much victims as the rest of us.

"I have mourned the loss of John Carter since that fateful day more than five years ago when he left to unlock the impenetrable doors of the great atmosphere factory for the engineers to restore life-giving air to all of Barsoom. I assumed he perished there even though his body was never found. My only consolation was that very night Carthoris broke his shell and gave me a reason to live.

"He was much like his father and perhaps in some ways too much. He was ever exploring, curious to know what secrets might be hidden and what truth there might be to the stories of the therns. I think he got it into his head to see if he could find the Valley Dor by air and maybe meet his father, a father he had heard so much about.

"A year ago, he disappeared in his search. I found myself with no reason to live, and I knew my father and grandfather feared I might make the journey down the river myself. They had lost their only possible heir when my son went missing as I planned never to take another and perhaps provide the needed daughter to continue our line. As they knew I was unlikely to produce another much less a daughter, they mounted two great expeditions to search the whole of the planet looking for him.

“Only recently has word come of the likely destruction of those two great fleets and my father and grandfather either killed in some great calamity or captured by some unknown enemy. My entire family was likely dead.

“It was then that Zat Arres, the Jed of Zodanga, started pressing me for my hand, he said to preserve the lineage of my house. But I knew he only wanted to lay claim to Helium itself through me.

"Six days ago, he gave me an ultimatum, either marry him willingly or marry him unwillingly. It would look better if it willingly. I knew it was only the concern that the populace would revolt if it was unwilling that kept him from forcing the issue right then and there. I didn't want either the civil war or him on the throne so I prepared to secretly leave the palace and make my way to the River Iss and then on to the Valley Dor. I was only partway to the exit of the city when I was overtaken by Sola and my most loyal guards, they insisted on accompanying me. I commanded them to return to their beds, but they would have none of it. The only time they ever disobeyed a direct order from me, but I knew it was their heart that ruled them. Woola was with Sola as he had been since Carthoris had disappeared. I do believe he knew where we were going and wanted to rejoin John Carter and Carthoris as much as I did.

"It was during the trek to the river that a battleship of the pirates discovered us, killed my guards then took Sola and me captive. The rest you know."

Seltic Kormi said, "You were headed to the River Iss to take that last journey but were intercepted by the first-born as they searched for your husband and son. What a cruel fate to come so close to reuniting with those you love only to miss each other by a few days. But at the same time, it seems John Carter, Carthoris, Tars Tarkas, and Xodar were rescued by the very fleet that must have been sent out by Helium searching for you. Come join us, let us get to know one another, here the thern and the red races are equal, and most of us have not suffered at the hands of the thern to cloud our view of one another. Oh, there are a few who were captured from the thern during the many raids the first-born execute on their favorite target but they are now very few.

Seltic Kormi turned to me and asked, "Phaidor, it was on that last raid that you were captured, and it was on that raid that you met John Carter. It must have been soon after he had lightened the load of the flier that Thuvia had been on. Please tell us all the story that we might fill in that part of the story."

Surprised at being drawn into this, I spoke and told my story and his as I knew it from the time I had spent with him. "The first time I saw John Carter I mistook him for Sator Throg, for that is the harness, wig, and diadem that he wore. He looked just like him, and in that he looked just like a thern. I remember thinking that I had no idea Sator Throg was this good with a sword. He must have been fighting the first-born, they would have thought him a thern by his appearance, having assumed the guise of the Holy Thern. I know now he had assumed the identity in his bid to flee with Tars Tarkas and Thuvia. I assume he escaped the fight by climbed a dangling anchor rope for it was that which allowed him to board the flier on which I was captive. I had been trussed up tied to the forward deck gun while the majority of the first born raiders had already thrown themselves to the deck to rest after the arduous struggle and they thought they were out of the fray. I watched in horror as the lone sentry had been quietly overcome and feared a white ape had somehow found its way up that chain. When I saw Sator Throg I was overjoyed but still fearful, he freed me and at my suggestion handed me his revolver. He killed first by surprise then when discovered the rest we overcame by force of arms, I killed two and he the rest all except one. John Carter captured the last of the first-born raiders, the same Xodar he was now on the run from the first born with.”

Seltic Kormi smiled and said, "And I saw you save his life during the revolt when you grabbed the arm that would have laid him low, and I saw how you looked to him for protection during the interview with Issus. You know Issus is only saving you for a fate worse than death, the same is true now for Thuvia and Dejah Thoris."

I stood there confused by all that had been revealed. I didn't know what to do. Here was news that John Carter had likely survived and perhaps made it back to his beloved Helium only to find his Dejah Thoris not there. Here she was with me, what a cruel and capricious fate had put her here with me to taunt me. . . and him.

Giving it a little more thought perhaps that only improved the chances of John Carter returning and rescuing me. I only had to be sure I was the only one left to rescue, somehow both Dejah Thoris and Thuvia would have to die. That shouldn't be too hard to arrange in this place of continual death and the enmity of the goddess on us all. I just had to be sure I wasn't swept up in that torrent of death as I arranged their demise.

While I was plotting her end, Dejah Thoris approached and dropped a deep bow to me, then took my hands in hers looked me in the eye, and said, "Thank you for saving the man we both love.:

This took me back a bit, what did I need of the thanks of the woman standing between me and my dreams of dominating the thern and through them the rest of Barsoom. Only by ruling everyone could I feel safe after the experiences of the last few days.

Even so, I was unsettled and surprised when I felt a tentative smile creep onto my face.

I looked up and saw Thuvia's face shift from one of surprise then to love then to skeptical as she looked me in the eye. She had reason to be skeptical having the most experience with the thern race. I locked eyes with her and the smile on my face shifted, if it reflected the thoughts running then through my head she had her warning that I would not relinquish the chance to have John Carter to myself and through him power over the thern and perhaps the planet.

At the time I still didn't understand two things about John Carter, thinking he was no different than the thern I had at first mistaken him to be I assumed he would be as thirsty for power by any means necessary as I was, and the other was that he was a one-woman man, and that woman, alive or dead was Dejah Thoris. Through Dejah Thoris his loyalty would be to Helium, always.


	22. Tortured Court

### Tortured Court

One of the horrendous effects of the further eroding of Issus's grasp on sanity was her increasing habit of killing her collection of handmaids on various whims or perceived slights.

It took the subtle intervention of a few of the highest-ranking among the temple staff to make it plain that if she did not stop killing her handmaids before their year of service she would soon not have any at all.

One of the tactics they used was to gather all the handmaids together for a parade of ranking where each day Issus would sort in order each by their beauty.

It became evident very quickly that some of the most beautiful were dying each day, that her collection was growing smaller and smaller.

After that, the killing slowed but did not stop.

Issus became more selective in her killing of handmaids and even a few of her guards who she thought might be slighting her. Almost all these deaths were at the hands of her tortures and unfortunately, I, along with the other two 'special' slaves, was present at many of these executions. It seemed Issus was now searching for the most sickening but slow death to inflict on my unwanted companions and me.

Of course, to compensate she ordered more women seized. More raids on the smaller nations to be executed and an increase in the numbers taken on the semi-regularly scheduled raids on the thern.

It became apparent very quickly that we three would be almost assured to live out our year in the hopes that John Carter and Carthoris could be captured and returned to witness our slow agonizing deaths.

We three were often kept within her sight and witnessed more of the deaths of our fellow slaves at the hands of her guards and tortures than any other handmaid.

During this time, I searched for ways to anger her against either Thuvia or Dejah Thoris. I needed to be careful in my plotting as I needed to be sure to contrive it in such a way as to spare me their fate. It was proving to be much harder than I would have thought.

Looking back, I now believe I may have overplayed my hand more than once, and even though Issus was a crazy woman she was not entirely senile.


	23. All For One

### All For One

My thoughts of finding ways to get both Dejah Thoris or Thuvia killed in some devious way either by myself or through some manipulation of a guard or even of Issus were short-lived.

It was only a few short weeks after the other two had been captured and added to the collection of handmaids that Issus changed the rules of the game.

Calling the three of us to her in one of her more lucid moments, she declared that if one of the three of us died, either naturally or by other causes, the other two would be immediately put to death on the spot.

She must have known that at least one of us was trying to do in the others and thus improve our chances of claiming John Carter for ourselves if he were ever to reappear not in chains but at the head of an army.

Also, in making that declaration, she sought to ensure that it would be her that ended our lives and that she would not be cheated out of that pleasure by one of the others.

Now my life depended on their continued existence. It took time and a concentrated effort to start looking for ways to keep them alive instead of killing them. But, in making that effort, I believe the start of what was to come began.


	24. News of John Carter's Arrival in Helium

### News of John Carter's Arrival in Helium

Nearly a month had passed since my capture when the next raid on the thern temples and gardens was completed. This raid was a big one with landings of the pirate ships all up and down the valley, many of the smaller temples that were typically not targeted were attacked.

Several of the captured thern women were brought before Issus as her collection was greatly diminished both from the losses at the previous games and the near-constant executions since.

One among them, while not a great beauty, was presented to Issus as a source of information rather than to add to those surrounding her.

The high-born thern woman had been captured from a remote temple, one that it now appeared was part of the spy network of the thern.

As usual, during these initial interviews and introductions, all the handmaids were present. We heard the questions, we heard the answers, and even though we schooled our faces to passivity, the interview resulted in a great deal of information about the spy network and the news passed along it.

One bit of information dealt with John Carter and his arrival in Helium a few weeks ago.

I felt Dejah Thoris's and Thuvia's attention focus on the woman as she related the story of John Carter's arrival in Helium.

The trial had gone as expected at first, by law and custom those returning from the Valley Dor had committed a sacrilege; by recounting their adventures there, and stating the facts as they existed they outraged the faithful and were condemned as blasphemers.

It was the presence of Xodar that had become the most interesting to the thern spies, a black pirate was claiming that Issus was theirs and that the thern were just as foolish as the red races.

If the stories of Xodar were true, then the thern were being duped just as surely as they were duping the rest of the world. None knew if the stories were true, but they were backed up by John Carter's and Carthoris's own claims. This intelligence was being passed along to the Holy Hekkador and his spymasters. The woman didn’t know what they were discussing or if the information provided was having any impact on the thinking of the Holy Hekkador.

At the report of the trial of John Carter, I watched Dejah Thoris's reaction as the sentence of death was related. Dejah Thoris’s face drained of color and I wondered if she was about to faint, but when the riot that almost ensued at the sentence and the eventual compromise of waiting a year for the return of either the Jeddak or the Jed mollifying the crowd Dejah Thoris started breathing again.

A small smile crept onto her face which she tried to hide from Issus as she listened to the story of the large escort of citizens loyal to John Carter protecting him as he returned to his palace along with Carthoris, Xodar, and Tars Tarkas.

At the conclusion of the interview I feared the wrath of Issus right then and there, I froze staring straight ahead not daring to turn to look at either Thuvia on my left or Dejah Thoris on my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the other two were as still as I and we all were looking at the thern woman standing before us schooling our faces into masks of indifference.

Our faces may have been those of stone, but within the breast of each, the interview had been enough to raise our hopes. Ours, and the rest of the slaves within hearing. Though we are chained women our fears that John Carter was no more were relieved.

Issus considered the report and instructed her guard captain to increase the number of spies within the walls of the thern temples, especially those of the Holy Hekkador's. She wanted to know his reaction and what he was planning to do to maintain the religion.

I started to wonder if the reports out of Xodar during his testimony were in any way raising doubts in my father's mind or the minds of the priests and spies. If so, would it be enough for my father to chance the rescue of his only daughter and the future of his line? I doubted that would be his course of action, but would he start looking, start wondering? Or would he start planning a way to send an assassin via a captured thern woman set as bait on the next raid?

I knew my father had an extensive spy network within each of the civilized nations of Barsoom extending all the way to the northern hidden regions of the Okar. I was surprised that there were no okarian women in the service of Issus. It was much later that I found out the reason for that. A reason that had been the death of many a flier, even the ships of the first-born dare not approach the skies over the Okar homeland.


	25. The Next Games

### The Next Games

The nearly sixty-eight days that passed between my capture and the start of the next monthly games were marked by death, uncertainty, and doubt.

These games were the first after the riot. Two things marked them as unusual. First, for the first time ever there were no handmaids left to sacrifice after a year of service. All who would have met their end in the arena were already dead. Most were dead in the riots, the rest dead at the hands of Issus or her torturers. Second, the arena stands were practically empty.

Even without the monthly sacrifice of those who were ending their year in the service of the goddess, the tables of the first-born would not be empty tonight.

The tables had been full the entire last month with the results of Issus's experiments in death. So, the lack of fresh meat at the banquet tonight would not be noticed as the larder was already full.

Issus of course would have her usual feast, the plumpest and softest of the handmaids had already been selected and sent to the butcher. It was unfortunate for the young thern woman that she had just been captured in time to provide Issus her usual sustenance at the end of the games.

Sitting in my chains along with Thuvia and Dejah Thoris at the feet of Issus I looked out at the almost empty arena, the scattered clusters of people were not their usual gay selves, there was little laughter and the number of household guards was noticeably larger.

I doubted Issus would be happy with the evidence of the fear instilled by John Carter and Carthoris in the hearts of her ‘indomitable’ race.

I took secret pleasure at the sight. A sight only I and a few of the surviving handmaids from the last games could truly understand and appreciate.

Of the three of us chained in front of the throne, only I had seen what had come before. The crowds, the atmosphere, the gaiety. The last moments of the games as they had always been.

Now I saw that the mighty raiders were just as mortal, just as foolish, as the rest of the planet. All were duped by a crazy old woman who I had to assume at one time was all she claimed to be, at least in beauty and intelligence. As far as being divine, I doubt she was any more than a con artist who had concocted the greatest con of the ages. The fact that I had been a willing participant in that con as it pertained to the outside world was less delightful and was starting to burden my budding conscience. I admit I still had little trouble putting that burden aside during this time.

The games themselves were more subdued, how could they not be? John Carter and Carthoris were absent, the crowd smaller, and the number of first-born condemned to trial by combat were fewer, most who had angered Issus in the last month had met their fate in her endless search for the best way to kill her three prize handmaids.

Having been captured within a week of each other, the three of us were scheduled to die at the same games, and our deaths would be displayed to all present in the most gruesome way possible. A warning to all that Issus would not be defied, not without consequence.

Issus was waiting the year to maintain that tradition to show that she was not to be rushed, it also provided an opportunity to mentally torment us three, to increase our dread as the weeks and months passed. There was also a hope that John Carter or Carthoris would be recaptured and forced to watch before they too were submitted to the same treatment.

The games were soon over, the number of events greatly curtailed due to a lack of both slaves and prisoners. Even the number of apes had been reduced by John Carter and new white apes would need to be procured for future games. It would be some time before the enormous beasts would again roam the sands seeking easy prey.

I could hear Issus talking to herself as the game concluded, the number of slaves needed to be increased dramatically, the number in attendance would need to be increased even if she had to formally decree that each household of the dators would have to provide a mandated number of attendants. Maybe she would start a new event where the household guards of rival dators would fight a pitched battle for the entertainment of the rest, and the winning house would gain ascendancy in her court.

Thurid's house was always in conflict with those he considered weaker, and to him, they were all weaker. I was watching his face as Issus talked to herself and the smile that played about his lips as she mused on ways to improve the games. I wondered then if the seed of that last idea had been planted by the cunning dator.

The already too evident insanity of Issus and the resulting warping of reality in the land of the first-born and through them the thern and the world became more pronounced. Her decrees and instructions each day were often contradictory to those of the day before. But they were consistent in their effect of creating doubt, uncertainty, and fear in her populous. But even with all that, the sycophantic display of obsequiousness to Issus all around her never ceased.

The high-ranking first-born supported her and made a show of obeying each and every utterance out of her mouth while likely doing whatever they liked outside of her vision.

These dators of the first-born were rich beyond measure. And that statement coming from a thern was saying something. The whole planet was in effect through the religion of Issus designed to accumulate wealth in their hands. It didn't matter how much they had, they wanted more. And in the nature of all master bullies, they used brute force when it pleased them, but they also used deception, rumor, and whisper campaigns against those they sought to rob and destroy.

To instill that fear in us, Issus had decided to keep Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, and me close to her more of the time than we already were, usually chained to her throne, sometimes chained to the walls, only every ten-day were we allowed to return to the common room.

Even then she would have one or the other of us brought to her and force us to witness what might be our eventual demise demonstrated on one of the unfortunate servants selected for her pleasure that day.

Many different methods were used, and each was as gruesome as the next.

In the end, the bodies were all much the same. Limp shells of once vibrant and energetic women, women known for their beauty. Issus's handmaids. Women we had shared meals with and heard their stories however much we tried to isolate ourselves from the new arrivals.

Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, and I were pitied and feared by the others; any that got too close to us during our short time in the common rooms would inevitably have their life ended in one of the many cruel tortures devised by Issus. And always at least one of us three would be present to witness.

Issus declared to us on many an occasion that she was searching for the most painful and humiliating way to kill the three of us when our year was up. And if all went right, she would have John Carter and Carthoris back in her possession and she would make them watch before killing them too.

The raids on the smaller city/states expand to some of the larger and more prepared nations to replenish the supply of handmaids and other skilled laborers killed during the slave riot and the demonstrations.

This kept the raiders busy and the number of women in the common room increased despite the deaths due to Issus's madness.

However, the monthly display of the handmaid deaths at the games was reduced in number, sometimes to none.

The lack of the usual sacrifices each month kept the memory of the riot in the minds of the first-born fresh. Another reminder was the three women chained in front of Issus on her throne during all the games. She kept us in her sight and at her feet, but that kept us in the sight of the populous as well.

In her mind, she was showing her domination of all who would defy her. And, to display our unequaled beauty while demonstrating that her own radiance outshone even the greatest beauties of the outside world.

I watched and noticed the impact of this one change as I sat watching the crowds more than the games, an unintended side-effect to our display and the missing monthly slaughter was to tell the people that Issus was vulnerable.

And that is not a message a god should advertise.


	26. More Slaves Needed

## Four Months

### More Slaves Needed

The number of women killed in the riot and by Issus needed replacing. But it wasn’t just the handmaids that had suffered in the riot; many of the household and manufacturing slaves had been slaughtered as they had risen against their masters. There was now a severe lack of labor to provide the first-born the lifestyle they were used to.

The three of us are almost always present during the interviews and meetings; we, along with the two assigned handmaids to the regular work shift heard much. This resulted in the handmaids knowing as much of the situation and of the plans intended to remedy it as did Issus herself.

The first-born leadership decided to increase the raids on the various nations of the planet, to increase the size of their targets, and to take more slaves while killing fewer in the process. To replace the handmaids, the plan was to take from many of the lesser houses that existed on the periphery of the various nations. No nation was to be raided too frequently.

The various red nations of the outside world would be losing more women on their frontiers than normal but, since most of these cities or small nations didn't communicate with each other except with a blade during times of war, which in some cases was continual, these losses would go unnoticed, or so it was thought.

The number of thern women needed to replace the handmaids killed was not as great as those needed to replace the red women killed; but, a number of thern women had been killed since the games as Issus explored the most excruciating and drawn out methods of torturing her three prizes. Always Issus made it a point to tell me that the thern victims were especially satisfying.

The number of women to be taken during each raid on the thern was to be increased to make up for the losses in Issus service; however, the frequency of the raids themselves was not to be increased.

During these meetings, as we either stood chained to the wall or chained to Issus's throne, like her prize pets, we learned of the increased effort to spy on the thern.

The thern spies were reporting to the Holy Hekkador, and the first-born spies were reporting on the reports to Issus. I wondered as I listened to these plans and the reports trickling in from the spies in my father's walls if the increased pirate activity would be confirming the stories told by Xodar and John Carter in his mind. I wondered if the thern were starting to wonder and maybe, just maybe, plan.

The spies also reported that the thern were having problems retaining their manufacturing slaves since many of theirs disappeared in the corridors and chambers honeycombing the cliffs and ground that their manufacturing temples were built on. At these reports, Issus and her cadre of the heads of the great houses just smiled and nodded.

I also heard progress reports of the first-born manufacturing labor supply increasing when no raids had yet been completed.

Putting two and two together, I realized those same slaves were now working for the first-born. How did these manufacturing slaves of the thern come to be enslaved by the first-born? It wasn't until a report about a collapsed passage between the manufacturing area of the first-born and the catacombs and chambers underlying the foundations of the thern temples and fortresses that I learned there were ways between the two that had nothing to do with raids or ships. The first-born used their secret passages that connected to those of the thern via hidden doors in the many miles of corridors underground.

The reporting was that the thern leadership assumed that the large loss of labor slaves was due to the appetite of the banths that had gotten a taste for men and had started roaming out of the caves and passages into the quarters of the manufacturing precinct nearby. The thern assumed that the banths wandering the precincts of the hybrids and the lost were claiming more than usual and were wandering into the manufacturing areas at night.


	27. News of Helium

### News of Helium

The numbers of the handmaids increased over the next month as the raiders returned with their captives. The numbers were almost to those present when I arrived with John Carter. There were many new women with their own stories and personalities. I did not make any effort to learn their names or anything about them. I had learned my lesson with Desphid and the others who had greeted me on my arrival. Several of the new slaves were from the outlying areas of the Helium empire.

These were anxious to pay respects to Dejah Thoris, but the others were quick to warn the new arrivals to stay away from the three of us. Getting near us, talking to us, or even smiling at us might get you killed in the most gruesome of ways.

Even in the midst of the common room, my only companions, my only company, were the very women I had sought at first to kill or maneuver into death. That forced companionship takes a toll on one's prejudices on one's perceptions of others. The only kindness any of us received was from one of the others. And yes, I started to slowly, very slowly, reciprocate their gentle ways of treating me.

About every ten day the three of us were allowed to retire to the common room; there, we found all were overjoyed that John Carter was alive. Many held out hope along with Dejah Thoris and Thuvia that John Carter would find some way in that year to devise an expedition to discover the truth of the Valley Dor and then from there the Temple of Issus.

My hope was that my father took notice, and based on Xodar's and John Carter's testimony of my captivity in the court of Issus he would find a way to discover for himself the truth of their stories and in doing so come to my rescue.

One of the new women was exceptionally beautiful and had been accepted into the ranks of the handmaids; her introduction to the rest and the resulting conversation kept many awake that night as they discussed the possibilities.

In the common room, she told her view of the happenings at the Temple of Reward. She told of her displeasure at the apparent coup being orchestrated by those from Zodanga taking the opportunity of the power vacuum with the royal house of Helium being dead or scattered to the four winds. That they had two princes of the house returned, no matter where from, and with stories that clearly indicated neither had intentionally taken the ‘last trip down the river Iss,’ most of the citizens wanted to pardon them and to send out expeditions to discover the truth.

The more conservative of the Helium population had aligned with Zodanga, their long time and hated enemy, rather than admit they might have been wrong about their religion, that they had been dupped. That most of these would also lose power or sources of income if the truth of the stories were proved to be validated was, of course, not a factor in their support of the upstart Jed.

It seemed to me that both Dejah Thoris and John Carter had one year to live. Just not together.

I had wanted to spend that year with him, but fate was capricious, I was doomed to spend it with her, the obstacle to my dreams.

The week after the first captives from Helium, another was accepted into the company of handmaids. This captive from one of the outlying canals of Helium was presented to Issus. She was beautiful, and even though she was only the daughter of a dwar of those guarding the life-giving waters in Helium’s waterways she was interviewed and accepted into the company.

Her knowledge of the world was restricted to that which any in the realm of Helium would know. She did know that John Carter, while with his son and Tars Tarkas, had received a visit from Tars Tarkas's daughter Sola.

At the mention of Sola's name, both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris sat up straighter to listen intently to the rest of the story told by the woman. Sola had survived being captured by the black pirates. She had been tossed overboard but had been fortunate to land on the soft moss covering the ground at the peak of a hill the ship had been passing over in the night. She made her way back to Helium there to tell the company that Dejah Thoris and another woman named Thuvia were now captives of the pirates. All of Helium was in an uproar at the news of the pirates capturing their princess.

Hope spiked in us all as well as the rest of the surviving handmaids, now John Carter knew where better to look for his Dejah Thoris. Also, the disappearance of Thuvia was explained and her whereabouts also known. All of John Carter's eggs were now in one basket, so to speak. I knew that John Carter would be targeting Issus and her temple, the very place I was held captive. I could not make up my mind if I were happy or anxious at the prospect of meeting him again, especially if Dejah Thoris were in the way of my hopes and dreams.

It became apparent that both the thern and the first-born needed news from the empire of Helium. To that end, the thern increased their spies and priests in the empire to gather what information they could. The first-born increased their raids on the periphery of the empire.

Information from both channels reached Issus. And in reaching Issus, it reached us. The thern spies were being spied on by the first-born as they had increased the monitoring of the thern network. The captives from the raids were interrogated either by Issus officers and reports given to Issus or by Issus by direct interviews with the more beautiful of the captives as she sought to maintain the numbers of her handmaids.


	28. Change the Game

### Change the Game

The next games arrived, Issus's plans to improve the games had been an ongoing effort for many of those who served her, and their efforts, while never recognized or appreciated, bore fruit.

The stands were occupied; true, the great houses had sent only their lowest ranking members and filled out the rest of their quota with slaves and guards. But the area seating was full, and that was all Issus required.

The idea of having rival houses provide entertainment had been implemented. Both houses had to be in full agreement that the winner would take the holdings of the other, which limited the number of houses willing to participate. 

But there were always the ambitious and the foolish. The battles did provide entertainment for the masses. The betting on which house would win was fierce and, for some, profitable.

Those first matches saw two conflicts settled between smaller houses. Four houses became two. Each battle featured a long-running and fierce feud concluding. Usually, these houses used assassins and subterfuge in carrying out their attacks on one another. But, with the new edict from the goddess, they each thought they had found a way to finally vanquish the other. Two of the houses were correct, two were entirely wrong.

I was not displeased with the spectacle of pirates fighting pirates. The more of them that died here, the fewer there were to raid my homeland. I noticed that neither Thuvia nor Dejah Thoris was fond of the spectacle. Maybe since neither had had their nation subjected to the chronic raids of the black pirates over the ages to fuel their hate of these raiders, they did not see them in the same light.


	29. The Demonstration

### The Demonstration

What happens over the two days after the monthly games were among the most harrowing of my captivity in the land of the first-born, not for the gruesomeness of the results. I had seen worse in Issus's quest to find the slowest, meanest, most demeaning torture ending in death. The three of us were always present for this 'research.' 

No, the demonstration provided by Thurid of a means of assassination, using unsuspecting and unwilling people as the instrument of death was frightening in its implications. 

Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, and I were chained as usual to Issus’s throne in the audience chamber, the same place we had all first witnessed the divine glory that was the goddess. She was hearing demanding the adoration of her subjects and had set aside this time of the day after the games to receive it.

Many of the dators produced flowery speeches and demonstrated their devotion to the goddess in various demeaning ways. But a few were also looking to curry favor by providing unusual and rare objects found on the latest raids.

At the approach of Thurid, I could feel my companions stiffen at the same time was doing the same. I found myself reacting to his presence; I was always apprehensive of his attention whenever he was near. His desire to possess me for himself was never hidden. Not even in the presence of Issus. 

"Oh, glorious one, I have news of a most wonderful invention, but one that is not an object or easily explained. I have a new way to deal with your enemies, a way to wreak havoc on them and theirs that would raise no suspicions as to the source of the attack. I can only demonstrate the results of this invention. If you will permit me to serve you in this way."

"Of what form is this demonstration, and where would you show me?" asked Issus, I think a little wary of his intentions.

"The demonstration should take place in your private torture chamber. The thing being demonstrated is the effect of a potion, a poison, but not the usual kind. One that is not intended for the victim, but rather someone who will be near the victim at a given time."

"Where is this invention from?"

"On my last raid I came on a compound of buildings at the border of one of the smaller nations, there I found a man in the employ of the Jeddak whose only job was to find a way to kill the Jeddak’s rivals without pointing the finger back at the ruler. The man convinced me not to kill him as he would gladly provide that invention to me in the stead of his Jeddak.”

Issus demanded, “I would see this ‘invention,’ but more I would see this man.”

“I would gladly turn him over to you, but he had made clear he will die before he is brought into your presence. I cannot torture him or drug him as he has for the past hundred years taken drugs that prevent him from being subject to either. I fear if I take him out of his laboratory that he will likely die before passing on the instructions for the manufacture of this drug.”

“Very well, let us see what you have to show. I will adjourn here and meet you on the morrow at mid-day in the requested venue."

Issus decided that all three of her pet handmaids were to witness this demonstration.

At the time appointed, we followed Issus to that hated chamber and waited for Thurid’s arrival.

He appeared shortly after, along with two slaves in tow. We recognized neither woman. I can only tell you that one was huge and strong, the other was small and timid. That was our first impression of the two.

Three walls of that room had various ways of securing those to be tortured. The fourth wall had a small raised area with a comfortable chaise. Where sitting in comfort, Issus could watch the work of her torturers. It was a chamber we had visited many times, and it haunted our dreams.

At Issus's signal, we three were attached to the walls beside the platform via manacles embedded into the walls above our head and at our feet. This was not unusual as we had been secured this way many times before. The other two slaves were taken and attached to chains that gave them free rein of a large part of the room, but they could not reach the platform or the shackles that were our usual positions in this room. Thuvia and I were attached to the wall to the left of Issus, Dejah Thoris was to the right of Issus. Issus sat, two of her more sadistic guards standing behind her.

Thurid smiled at us then bowed deeply to Issus, “I have here the poison I told you of. My new slave is a chemist of the highest training and a man after my own heart. He told me of this potion he was developing as an assassination tool, one that was not fed to the intended victim but to one or more of those around him. The poison causes temporary insanity, which turns those poisoned into killing machines. They have the urge to kill everything around them, including each other if more than one person is involved. If they are unarmed, they will steal or attack anyone with a blade to obtain it before using it on anyone nearby. There is some secret to the programming in the potion, something my slave will not divulge, and he has taken other potions all his life that will cause him to die if he is tortured or questioned via drugs. It is most annoying. I do not trust him near me, and for your sake, not near any you value. But he hopes to show his goodwill by demonstrating this tool for your pleasure.”

That part about ‘any you value’ was a cunning way to say he didn’t trust the man near Issus either without calling into question Issus’s supposed immortality.

“I would see this man, but I assume you want to keep his services for a while longer. So, show me the effects of this master potion maker's work.” Issus was practically breathless as she awaited the demonstration.

“It only takes a small nick of a blade coated with the potion to have it go into effect at a later time. The delay is usually about half a day. I took the liberty of administering the poison earlier so that we would not have to wait long for it to go to work. By my calculations, it should take effect within the next few minutes.”

I turned to watch the two women, one of which had been given a dagger bound to her thigh, which she could not use due to her hands being bound behind her, but she was free to move about to the length of her chain. The other, the one I assumed had been poisoned look around terrified. She was a small timid woman, one no one would suspect of being able to cause much harm or damage.

As I watched, a look of confusion appeared on her face; then it went blank, almost as if she were watching something no one else in the room could see. Without warning, she looked around and lunged for the guards standing behind Issus's throne. She came up short and strain as she might she could get no closer to the weapons clearly visible on their persons. She took another look around and spotted the dagger tightly bound within the sheath on the other woman's thigh.

She lunged at her with manic fury, and even though she was much smaller, she evaded the kick aimed at her and quickly took the woman down by dragging her to the ground and tearing out her throat with only her hands and teeth. Then she ripped the dagger off the body and quickly had it unbound and unsheathed by the simple means of shredding the leather with her hands and teeth. The wounds inflicted by this process didn't slow her. The blood frothing at her mouth and streaming from the cuts on her hands meant nothing to her. She grabbed the dagger and lunged for Issus. Not being able to reach her, she launched herself at Thuvia and me but again came up short. But only barely. The blade came within a few centimeters of my face. I admit I tried to merge into the wall as much as I could. Having been bound tightly to the wall in the first place, that wasn't much, maybe a centimeter at best. My heart was beating rapidly, and I prayed the chain holding the small woman would remain intact.

Her frustration at failing to reach any of her victims showed in desperation on her face. She had to kill. Wildly looking around, she spotted Dejah Thoris on her wall opposite us. Turning, she ran towards her new target at full speed hoping to be able to at least reach one of the people around about her. She hit the end of her tether with enough force that all heard the crack as her leg broke near the ankle flinging her to the floor. Her head hit with a loud and sickening thud. She lay there dead.

"If she hadn't killed herself on that lunge, she would still have killed herself. The programming of the potion would have had her kill herself if no living thing is left within her sight or is beyond her reach. Thurid's calm voice announced."

I stood staring at the mangled beings on the floor. One, the larger and stronger had been no match for the smaller and weaker. The drug must have released all the hormones in the body involved in fight or flight. The strength imparted was impressive. The uncaring way the woman had ripped the dagger out of the bound sheath showed no ability to reason, only sheer determination to cause damage. The leaking blood around both bodies pooled and contrasted with the blond hair of both. It was not lost on me that the demonstration had involved two thern women. Women who would not invoke a second look in my father's court.


	30. John Carter Disappears

### John Carter Disappears

The next ten-day after Thurid’s demonstration resumed the normal round of idle entertainment, meetings with the heads of the largest houses, briefings from the spies and raiders bring word of the outside world and the unprecedented impact of Xodar, Carthoris, Tar Tarkas, and John Carter’s escape from both the Valley Dor and the Temple of Issus.

Some nations, those who had always had a strong tradition of independent thought and critical thinking, were making moves to investigate the claims. Most of these were small and insignificant threats. But, they presaged the cracks starting to show in even the most religious of societies.

Helium itself would usually be among those preparing to investigate the claims made by the Princes of the Royal House. However, the Zodangian Jed stood in the way. That didn’t keep discussions and rumors from spreading in the populace or some ceasing or decreasing their offerings to the temples.

Offerings that always mysteriously disappeared overnight. Offerings that made their way to the tables and the homes of the thern in the Valley Dor.

The first-born spies were reporting that analysis being done by the thern was showing a slight but noticeable drop in offerings. There was also a decrease in the number of people taking the final trip down the River Iss to the promised paradise in the Valley Dor.

Doubt had been planted. Doubt was growing. Doubt could not be allowed to come to fruition.

As in the past, the thern spies were working to bring about mysterious and sometimes fatal consequences to the most vocal of the critics of the religion. If the death looked like it could have only been from some supernatural force, then that was all to the good.

Issus ordered her raiders to concentrate on the unfaithful nations. To bring them to their knees if possible. The first-born had always supported these missions of retribution of the thern even though the thern didn’t know they were receiving the help.

Between the two of them, they should be able to quiet the critics and stop any further drop in pilgrimage or offers.

The superstitious were only too ready to conclude that disobedience and sacrilege would invite the wrath of the gods of Barsoom.

The many raids produced new captives from the gardens of the thern, raided settlements, and captured airships of the rest of the world. The most beautiful of which were presented and usually accepted into the court of Issus.

While Issus had slowed her rate of killing her handmaids, she had not ceased. The need for replacements was always an issue.

Many of the new slaves came from weak or isolated targets within Helium's realm to gain news independent of that gleaned from spying on the thern. 

I wondered if that empire would notice and noticing what would they make of the increasing raids by the black pirates. That nation was losing more women and slaves on their periphery and via captured trading ships plundered by the raiders than any other.

One helium captive was the daughter of the captain of one of the great freighters. The freighter had been taken along with all its cargo and a few skilled artisans who were even now being put to work in the service of the first-born.

This captive had been brought to Issus as she was beautiful enough to be considered for the honor of serving Issus. Her rank was less important since the need for handmaids had increased, and needs must make do.

The story provided by this new slave was less welcome. John Carter had disappeared. No word of his whereabouts had been heard for many days.

The rumor had it that he had disappeared some before it became widely known. That it had been kept secret within the circle of Carthoris’s friends and companions. It was only when one of the household servants had let slip that a search for the prince was underway that it became public knowledge. The worst was feared, but there was nobody to prove one way or the other.

Most now assumed that Zat Arris had him killed and destroyed. All knew the Jed of Zodanga was not a man of his word. Having failed to kill John Carter through the courts, they assumed that he had resorted to the time-honored ways of the assassin. 

I could not believe John Carter had fallen to an assassin's blade. It was unbelievable. Looking at my fellow captives who loved him, I could see the same disbelief written on their faces.

Carthoris was in the public view most of the time during the day now. But none saw him about during the evening hours.

The woman continued her story and her view that Carthoris was either allying the fear now present that Zat Arris would have him killed too or maybe he was a distraction from some other scheme being planned by the prince.

Dejah Thoris smiled at that last bit of news, her son, her life, was still alive and well. I noticed Thuvia also seemed pleased by the news.

Over the next days, many a depressed and despondent look passed among us. Something almost like a bond formed in our mutual loss, for on the face of it, he was dead. It was only our own stubborn hope that kept any thoughts of him being alive in our heads.

In private, never in Issus’s view, Dejah Thoris let the always forbidden tears flow, but that lasted only for a day or two. After that, I think she vacillated between believing he had returned to Jasoom, or that he was on some mission that required secrecy and the story was a ruse. Only in her darkest moods did I think she really believed him dead.

Two unexpected changes were brought about by the news of the captain's daughter after it had been confirmed through interviews with other captives and news from the thern spies.

Thuvia and I were returned to the common room full time except when we were chosen to serve a standard shift. And, thankfully, with the word that John Carter was likely dead, the number of those killed by her experiments was greatly reduced.

Without John Carter to watch and suffer, there was no longer a plan to make him witness the gruesome deaths of all three of us. Now, only Dejah Thoris was fated for that end, provided her son could be captured.

We only saw Dejah Thoris on her one day in ten when she was allowed to return to the common room. And when we were called to serve the goddess.

Thuvia and I were always called to serve together. Now more wary than before, having lost the ironic protection of being saved for a time when John Carter would behold our deaths. We knew death could come at any time and for any reason. An uneasy truce had settled between us as we were more dependent than ever on each other for survival.


	31. Thern Concern

#### Thern Concern

Thuvia and I now spent our time in our own quarters or in the common room. We were cut off from the constant flow of information that we had become used to during our time chained almost constantly at Issus's feet.

But, we were also spared the continual horror of witnessing the experimental tortures. Only Dejah Thoris was always present at these as she was now the only intended victim. The occurrence of these was very much reduced from the frenetic pace of the previous month, but it was still much too frequent.

Cut off from the constant contact with the two red princesses, I found myself resuming my old ways of thinking. Of viewing the world through the lenses of the daughter of the Holy Hekkador. Of viewing the thern to be more worthy. I did not, however, revert to believing that the red race was comparable to cattle. I did view them as equal to the thern, just not as equal. The contradiction at the time was lost on me. Math had never been my strongest subject.

It became a habit for me to spend my time alone. My one concession was to be present in the common room when the handmaids that had been on the day shift arrived back in the room.

Now it was much more likely that they would survive the day.

As had become the norm, the returning handmaids would brief the room on the happenings of the day. The news from the outside world as reported via the thern spies, the newly interrogated captives, or the reports of Issus's lieutenants.

A topic that became of particular interest to me and the other thern women was the increasing worry of the first-born about the impact of the testimony of Xodar. The increasing suspicions apparent in the thern analysis of the timing and placement of raids of the black pirates and the new apparent willingness of the thern to question their own faith was causing concern.

On a day midway through the next ten-day, a newly captured group of thern women accepted as handmaids entered the common room and were left to our care. Their arrival was a bit of surprise, as we had not been called upon to attend their interviews or to be there when the new ones turned to witness the glory of the goddess. I was not sure what to make of this change, of this beak with tradition. What was going on in the mind of the mad goddess?

My attention returned to the large cohort of women captured from locations all up and down the length of the thern homeland. The increase of handmaids brought with them new views of the typical thern society. The thern now for the first time outnumber the red race. I did not find comfort in that. I was as alone now, more so, as I had ever been in my secluded temple.

The spy network of the thern throughout the planet was large and complex, and many resources were now directed at Helium. A network that large had leaks at home, a word said in bed, a word said to a friend, a word said in the hearing of unnoticed slaves, all these started rumors, and these rumors had many points of agreement. The testimony of John Carter in the Temple of Reward was now common knowledge.

Many of these fresh captives talked of the stories John Carter had told in his trial, and the corroboration of Xodar and Carthoris at the same time. To the thern, the words of Xodar held more weight; perversely, it was their familiarity with the raiding pirates that gave it more credence.

These women were also aware of John Carter’s disappearance but, they had their own suspicion that it had been a stealthy raid by the black pirates that had either killed or captured him to keep in quiet. They knew it had not been the thern as that would have been much too big to keep secret, and the thern spy network would not still be looking for him, wondering if he was involved in some project that would harm the faith.

If these women were typical of the thern population, then the thern had started wondering if they were being duped by the black pirates. They knew John Carter's reports concerning the thern were mostly true, and if they were, then why would he need to lie about the stories of the first-born? And was there not a black pirate or first-born now working with Kantos Kan in Hastor?

This last information had been in several recent reports to Issus, but not much attention had been given it. It appeared the thern were more interested in this fact. What was he doing there? Why would the great fleets of Helium being refitted in Hastor need Xodar's expertise? What was really going on?

Many in the thern populace were starting to question their own place in the world, the place they had known since childhood. They were starting to question the Holy Hekkador himself and his fitness to rule.

It was rumored that the Holy Hekkador was worried that he would soon lose his position in his own realm and not from an invasion of the red races but rather a revolt within his own.

In the last month, no word of John Carter had reached thern ears none. It was assumed by the Holy Hekkador that Zat Arris had commanded the assassination of John Carter and hidden the evidence beyond even the thern’s ability to uncover.

The returning handmaids that had been on duty that day in the briefing told of what happened after the fifteen new handmaids had been escorted away.

The corroboration of John Carter’s disappearance was met calmly, but the news of the impact of his testimony at the Temple of Reward in Helium had been met with anger.

Issus alternated between her joy that John Carter was gone and her anger that it was someone else who had done the deed, either the thern or Zodanga had robbed her of killing him herself. And after she had spent so much time researching was to kill him along with those who professed their love of him. 

The anger at the impact on the thern was by far more savage and deranged. Here she ranted about the faithlessness of the thern, the ungrateful children throwing a fit when the world turned out to be different than they had supposed. She mostly railed at the population for threatening to tear down her constructed hierarchy within the thern society. The Holy Hekkador has hers to decide, not theirs.

As the handmaids told their stories, they both began to shake, a delayed reaction to their surety that they would meet their end as Issus’s anger festered.

When next Dejah Thoris visited the common room at the end of the ten-day, she held out hope that without a body, there could not be a surety that John Carter was dead. After all, he had disappeared once before and, the stories he had told Thuvia were that he had returned to Jasoom unwillingly. Perhaps that was what happened again. But if so, was he to be gone for another five years? And if he were gone, what hope was there for Thuvia, Phaidor, and her rescue?

The answer was soon enough in coming, Carthoris, Xodar, Kantos Kan, and Hor Vastus were bending every effort on a project of their own. A project that raised the hope of every handmaid in the room when it was finally reported to them.


	32. Thurid's Game

### Thurid’s Game

Thurid was not present as much in the court of Issus after he demonstrated the hideous tool using unsuspecting people as pawns of assassination.

That he was busy with his 'master chemist' devising ways to enrich himself, I had no doubt. I wondered if he had his eyes set as the chief counselor to Issus. A post currently held by the head of the largest house of the First Born.

When rumors of several smaller houses accusing each other of employing fanatical spies to kill and maim the dator of other smaller houses. I had to wonder if this was Thurid’s doing. Was he using his potion to coax existing feuds or, was he manufacturing feuds where none existed?

The description of these assassinations or attempted assassinations matched the effects of the drug. None of the assassins were suspected. They had all had served long and faithfully in their respective houses. None would have been considered a physical threat and had access to the dator of the house. All had died.

As the rumors and reports were brought to the court's attention, usually in the form of the requests to join the next month's games, none, but Issus, we three handmaids who had been present at the demonstration, and I suppose Issus's guards would suspect what was really happening.

That Issus did nothing to reign in Thurid spoke to her need to have entertainment. She likely viewed it as Thurid doing his part to improve her games, to provide enough entertainment to satisfy her need for blood and destruction. I suspect that far from wanting to curb his activities, she might want to encourage them in the future.

The resulting impact of these disagreements, whether new or old, was that not less than ten houses were slated to go to war within the arena. That made five sets of battles. The surprising thing was that Thurid’s house was one of them.

That Thruid had picked a fight with a much smaller and weaker house was not lost on me. A bully is a bully after all, and a bully never picks a fight with someone he knows can beat him.

But I would not have thought Thurid would risk his life in such a chaotic environment as the melee of the arena.


	33. A Thern Fleet

### A Thern Fleet

What did not please Issus were the reports from both the spies in the walls of the thern temples and the women captured in raids telling of the thern fleet being enlarged. That, along with the intelligence of the manufacturing raiders that several enormous caverns now held the framework for battleships that were rapidly being assembled. The thern were capturing more and more slaves. Both through the captured crews of ships and not letting the plant-men and white apes deal with pilgrims. The labor force was increasing every day. And that force was being guarded by keeping a watch over their most prized shipbuilders. Restricting them to their dorms that were constantly patrolled and away from the banths or lower caverns.

The thern fleet had never been overly large or even useful when it had existed. It did not possess any large battleships, not since the almost total annihilation of the thern at the hands of the First-Born fleet ages ago. Since then, they had felt it too risky to have the large warships as it might provoke another overwhelming attack by the black pirates.

On the surface of it, the analysis of the information held that the shipbuilding was in response to the secret work being carried out by Carthoris and his allies in the city of Hastor.

The first-born spies, however, were coming to the opinion that the fleet was intended not just to repulse the invading Helium fleet but also to search out and destroy elements of the first-born fleet as they raided the frontiers of the red nations.

The thern spies were reporting on the Helium fleet elements, which were in for scheduled repairs and refurbishment taking longer than usual. That, along with the unusual number of the largest battleships that had suddenly developed mechanical problems that caused the docks at the Hastor facility to be totally occupied even though shifts worked around the clock.

They would not have noticed the change except that Xodar had traveled to Hastor along with a high-ranking admiral of the fleet. That city reasoned to be small enough to avoid the attention of the Jed of Zodanga but large enough to handle the largest battleships that were being sent there for repair and refit was the perfect place to stage a coup or launch an expedition without involving the Jed sitting in Helium.

The increased security around the facilities and the unusual number of jedwars being summoned to meet with Kantos Kan also struck them as indications that something was happening in Hastor.

The additional reports of large battleships being sent to the frontiers were not unexpected given the increased losses Helium was experiencing as the first-born raided their boards. But that a large contingent of transports was being kept near the Thark territories was concerning.

There were also rumor’s in the cities of a large force being recruited and organized by Hor Vastus. A close friend of Carthoris, the efforts of the thern spies to infiltrate this force had so far met with failure.

Puzzling to them was that Xodar was constantly at the docks with Kantos Kan and was often visited by Hor Vastus.

Though the thern were puzzled, the first-born analysts assumed that it was due to Xodar being a known expert at refit and repair. They assumed that his knowledge was useful to the Heliumites.

The thern believed that fleet was being ready by Carthoris to reveal the truth of his and his father’s testimony. That they would show up with an overwhelming force to meet anything the thern could muster given the intelligence provided by Tars Tarkas.

Everyone else around Carthoris was working in utmost secrecy. The thern spies could not find a way to infiltrate the refit effort or the men being recruited to the invasion. None that did not have long and close ties to the principal leaders or their most trusted lieutenants were included.

The thern had managed to infiltrate the gate guards at Carthoris's palace, allowing them to keep a close eye on him and his visitors. 

Carthoris spent his time in Helium searching for his father, who he refused to believe was dead. However, the thern spies concluded his search would be futile. They thought John Carter was likely dead and had been fed to a band of wild banths, calots, or thoats.

Of course, all this information filtered into the common room of the handmaids, where it was usually confirmed and expanded on by the knowledge Dejah Thoris was privy to due to her constant presence at Issus's feet or attached to the wall nearby.

In one case, both Thuvia and I were present during the report on the thern battleships and the rapid progress being made to complete them.

We stood ready to assist Issus with any want or need or whim. But at hearing the first-born analysis that her own fleet would be one of the targets of the growing thern fleet, she became angry almost to the point of incoherence.

Issus, Goddess of Death and Life Eternal, was in rare form that day, her guards and handmaids sliding out of sight as much as possible. I wished I could slip just a centimeter further into the shadows. I was surprised when I wasn't immediately hauled in front of her to meet my end right then and there. After all, it was likely my father's doing that the thern were building or, in some cases taking a page out of the pirates operating manual, stealing warships.

By some small miracle, none of her servants lost their lives that day. I think perhaps Issus was just tired and wanted a nap and had not the energy to put into her favorite pastime.

As days wore on that month, reports of more than one battleship being housed in the caverns came to light, along with the methods the thern employed to obtain them.

These battleships were hijacked by special contingents of the thern army in disguise as red warriors. These spies serving as panthans in a small nation's navy would take the battleships by surprise and sail them home. Even now, thern crews were training on the guns and the flight controls of these foreign ships.

-*-*-

Back in the common room, the thern handmaids hoped that those ships would be ready before their allotted time in Issus's court was done. They had taken it into their head that the Holy Hekkador was preparing to turn the tables on the first-born. That it would be Issus’s temple attacked and that they would be discovered and freed as a result.

But even those who knew they were unlikely to be saved were happy that friends of theirs might be rescued. All had resigned themselves long ago to their fate. If they missed being saved by a day, or even an hour, their joy at the prospect of ending the reign of the false religion of Issus and her first-born was enough.

Many Heliumite slaves were, of course, hoping that the fleets being refitted at Hastor or those gathered on the frontier would be in time to rescue them.

The bonds between thern and red were still strong, but I think some were hoping their side would be first to liberate them, thus improving their own chances of being returned to the life they had led before.

I knew that no matter who showed up or when they did, life could not return to what it was.

I watched Dejah Thoris closely. The reports from the thern assuring the Holy Hekkador that John Carter had been killed were wearing on her spirits. She was becoming more and more withdrawn into herself. Day after day, report after report, and John Carter was still missing and presumed dead at the hand of an assassin. I felt the ache of losing him, but that ache was mostly of disappointed plans that would now never be fulfilled. For Dejah Thoris, the wound was deeper, much deeper.

Only the thoughts of Carthoris and the possibility of seeing him again cheered her. On Dejah Thoris’s visits to the common room, Thuvia sought to keep her spirits up, to steer the conversations to Carthoris. When the loss of John Carter was too much for Dejah Thoris here in the safety of the common room, Thuvia just held her friend.

I, . . . I was a bit jealous that I did not have anyone that cared for me as much as Thuvia cared for Dejah Thoris. At one point, I had hoped that would be John Carter. Now he was gone.

-*-*-

The speculation circulating in the common room was that the thern dared not reveal the work going on under Zat Ariss's nose for fear of confirming John Carter's testimony and revealing the thern to a greater threat.

There were already signs in other cities that the words of John Carter were having an effect. There were fewer voluntary pilgrimages down the River Iss, and the offerings at the temples had noticeably dropped. The drop was not precipitous, but it was noticeable.

A few of the new arrivals from the gardens and temples of the thern confirmed that thinking and news and fuller stories of the goings-on of the new thern fleet were circulated in the common room, news that had not been dared to be revealed in the presence of Issus herself.

There were those in the thern hierarchy that had taken the whole of John Carter's story and realized that it was likely true. The fleet would be turned on the next arriving wave of black pirates of first-born as John Carter said they called themselves. A few of the new arrivals were uncomfortable around Phaidor. It was only later that Thuvia told her the new arrivals were also reporting a growing resistance to Matai Shang's own rule within the thern race. They were tired of the bloodshed and the deception. Phaidor had always known that some questioned the system and the results. They were always found out by her father's spies and reeducated in the ways of the true religion.


	34. Penultimate Games

### Penultimate Games

The day of the games arrived and after the token sacrifice of one lone handmaid that had managed to survive the riot and whose year was finished, the scheduled five house battles were started.

Thurid’s battle was slated to be first and since his house was battling one of the smaller houses involved it was soon over. Thurid never even having to swing his sword as the opposing house was quickly overwhelmed and the dator killed almost immediately. The warriors of the defeated house were joined to Thurid’s in a short ceremony as Issus declared Thurid the victor and now the head of the combined houses.

Thurid took his newly enlarged house into the stands to watch the rest of the battles. Some of which took most of a zode to finish. I noticed he kept a keen eye on the proceedings almost as if he were calculating odds.

After the end of the last battle late in the afternoon, Thurid insulted the winning side in public to the degree that it was decided by Issus that the two houses would fight it out then and there.

That the last battle had just concluded and been one of the bloodiest and had so exhausted both victor and vanquished was part of Thurid’s strategy. His house had won a quick and almost bloodless fight much earlier in the day. They were rested, both his original fighters and these he now included in his house as the result of his victory.

The result was that of these four original houses only one remained, Thurid’s. This last battle had been about as quick as the first, the tactic used was the same, find and kill the dator of the house as quickly as possible. The defenders were exhausted, and no match for the concerted effort of Thurid’s men.

Thurid’s house had grown by almost triple with very few losses for him and not a scratch on him or a drop of blood on his own blade.

As a result, Thurid’s house had grown in a single day to one of the largest through these victories and the crowds loved him. 

Soon after these games, it became apparent to the handmaids that Thurid was also quickly climbing the ranks of Issus's favorites, so much so that she started suggesting which of the houses she would like to see destroyed and Thurid would orchestrate a conflict either with his own house if he knew he could win, or between that house one they had no hope of beating.

One advantage of being one of Issus's handmaids was that the network of slaves and the gossip along with it always found a way to our ears as the kitchen was eager to trade their stories for those of what went on in the court. Through this network, we were hearing more of the efforts of Thurid and his campaign of agitation.

Through both the network of gossip and the information coming from requests to be included in the next games we learned that even though Thurid’s house was now one of the more powerful houses, yet it was not in Issus’s inner circle. One house, Xamak, which feared being usurped, had challenged Thurid, that battle was scheduled for the next games.

One bright spot came of all Thurid’s machinations.

The house of Xamak was large and powerful with many spies in other houses, including Thurid’s.

Spies never understood that the slaves spied on the spies.

The Xamak spies in Thurid’s house didn’t know how Thurid orchestrated the assassinations or attempted assassinations that sparked many of the conflicts but they did know that he spent a large amount of time in one of the laboratories in his holdings.

Not fearing Thurid’s rath as they were already slated to meet during the next games Xamak raided that laboratory. Xamak, determined to know what might be going on there and how it might explain Thurid’s abilities captured all who worked there and submitted all to forceful interrogation. One captive almost immediately died, not via the torture, but he simply became unconscious and stopped breathing.

On hearing this story Thuvia and I looked at each other with a knowing look on our faces. We through some means I didn't understand at the time silently agreed to keep our knowledge to ourselves.


	35. The Water Fleet of Helium

#### The Water Fleet of Helium

Thuvia and I were more and more often called to serve Issus. I think to remind us of our position as slaves. Or, maybe just to keep a closer eye on us. Or, maybe, as a way to torment Dejah Thoris, who knew that at any moment those serving Issus could end up as limp lifeless bloody messes on the marble floors.

If this last were the case, then I could understand Thuvia’s presence, but mine must sure not matter to the Heliumite at all.

During our time on duty, we witnessed many of the reports coming in from the spies.

It had finally happened. The security around the docks at Hastor had been breached by the thern spies. Either through some bribe or a simple clerical error, or someone just getting lax about security, a thern spy, who worked as a dock worker, made it into the Hastor docks.

The reports coming through the thern spy network were alarming, both to the thern and the first-born.

The spy was surprised that all five battleships currently in the dock, each in various stages of completeness, were being fitted with water propellers as well as the usual airscrews. The reason for Xodar’s presence was finally realized by the thern spies. He must have some knowledge of the first-born designs for their own ships that sailed both air and water. It was the most logical explanation. But while these ships were not all that useful against the thern, they would be useful in Sea or Omean.

At the word of Xodar's involvement, Issus spat and became angrier, “That Calot! That he should now use his skills to defy me where he had bent his every energy and talent at maintaining my fleets. His death shall be as excruciating as any I've ever meted out. His screams will be music and his death my masterpiece.”

Calculating the number of ships that had been cycled through the docks in the last three hundred days resulted in a significant portion of Helium’s navy that could navigate the seas of the Omean and Korus.

Along with raising fighting men to invade the temples and gardens of the thern and the first-born the plans of Carthoris and his allies were becoming clearer.

The officers of the first-born navy knew that those ships were aimed at them.

They also knew that Tar Tarkas was alive and well and recruiting the Thark horde to their cause. The transports stationed near the Thark territories were there to take them south. And, just as they had against Zodanga they would pillage the fair temples of the thern and the cities of the first-born.

The spies in the walls of the Hekkador’s temple were reporting a heated debate among the leadership on what to do with this knowledge.

On one hand, it confirmed that a large and significant portion of the population of Helium believed John Carter's story. They also were preparing to invade the south polar regions and specifically the domain of the first-born to rescue their princess. And if Dejah Thoris were there would not Phaidor be there too?

It also solidified the belief of many that Xodar, John Carter, and Carthoris were telling the truth about the treatment of the thern in the one place they had been promised peace. It was time to end the pirate menace once and for all.

The efforts to obtain, crew, and train on as many battleships as they could build, and steal, was redoubled.

The thern fleet was being increased as fast as possible. Mostly through the theft of battleships by contingents of thern spies throughout the lesser nations. But they were also building new ships with captured artisans and engineers. They knew the ships converted in Hastor were also aimed at them and the Lost Sea of Korus.

The city of Hastor in the Helium empire was being infiltrated by more and more thern spies as well as the gate guards all over Greater Helium. The number of panthans that were thern in disguise was increased, the better to keep an eye on comings and goings.

The admirals of the first-born navy sent word to recall all fleet elements operating around the world, to return and defend their home from both the red men and the thern.

-*-*-

As time passed and Dejah Thoris lost hope of ever seeing John Carter again her only consolation was once again her son, Carthoris. The reports coming in from the spies spying on the thern reported that Carthoris, Kantos Kan, Hor Vastus, and others were using Xodar's knowledge to retrofit many of Helium's battleships to be able to land on water. The only possible goal of those ships was the Omean Sea and the purpose of landing on the water was an invasion of the realm of the first-born. And she knew her rescue was the goal of every Heliumite.

The new thern captives were bringing first-hand news from the temples. They confirmed that the people knew of the Helium fleet being retrofitted to land on the water of Omean, they also knew the Hekkador was building up the thern fleets, and there were rumors of a build-up of the first-born fleet though where those came from none could in the common room determine. 

Most of the red handmaids are excited that those loyal to John Carter appeared to be executing a rescue of the captives with or without him. Carthoris was now the leader and most of the red captives who had been alive during the riot idolized him.

The thern captives debated the fleet retrofitting under the nose of Zat Arris. Would Mati Shang somehow make it known to the Jed

? Would that knowledge only increase the danger to the thern? Would the thern fleet building program produce a fleet that could defeat the fleet being put together by Carthoris and Xodar?

The topic of conversation among the now numerous Heliumites was of Zat Arris and his ignorance of the fleet being assembled right under his nose. They talked of Tars Tarkas returning to his own people, not recognizing Zat Arris's right to condemn him. He reserved that right for his own tribe. It turned out that they were content with waiting for the Jeddak or Jed of Helium to return. They would honor the same sentence as handed down to Carthoris of Helium.

The rumors from Helium were that Zat Arris now planned to take control of Helium by fiat, being the only standing ruling house left. Even the return of Dejah Thoris out of the hands of the black pirates would not be welcome. The fact that no expedition was organized in search of the pirates that had captured her was proof to them that Dejah Thoris's life would not be safe with him. And Carthoris was under constant guard day and night by no less than a company of warriors to keep the Jed from doing to him what was feared done to his father.

The men and women of his personal guard would not leave him alone even for a minute. This caused many of the young ladies, both those of Helium and those who had fallen in love with him while he had been a captive of Issus to giggle and in a few cases turn a deeper shade of red as they fantasized themselves in those guards position. Many wondered if Carthoris would ever consider taking a concubine out of his guard or even if by some miracle they were rescued by him.

When this topic came up within hearing of Dejah Thoris, I noticed she just smiled a knowing smile and let them fantasize. However, Thuvia's face would become stern with an almost haunted look entering her eyes.

I was puzzled at this, and when I asked Thuvia, she denied that anything was going personally. She just did not like hearing other people make light of such serious issues. It was well known that the right of rule passed from mother to daughter, only when a house had no known female branch was a new house established via a male heir.

Dejah Thoris's son could rule one day but, he would not be the source of the next generation of rulers if Dejah Thoris survived and produced a daughter. As for concubines, well, that was well known for both male and female rulers. She personally did not approve of the arrangement.


	36. The Last Games

### The Last Games

I reached my fifth games attendance; I was halfway to the end of the year. Baring other factors the tenth games would be my last. At this point, I would be the only handmaid left that had attained my one year of service. At night some of my dreams were of that last day. Would I be paraded alone onto the sand to be examined by the butcher? Or, since I was the beginning of the return to normalcy, would I be left to be torn apart by the apes that were even now being groomed for that role?

The games had several battles between houses, but the one everyone came to see was that between Xamak and Thurid.

The battle turned out to be one to behold. Many warriors of both sides died during the fierce fighting. Eventually, the dators of each house were forced to meet in combat and settled the matter. I was a bit amused at the maneuvering on the part of both houses to arrange that meeting as I suspected both were tired of throwing away the lives of their companions while making no headway to a conclusion as each dator, in general, avoided combat with a competent foe.

Thurid, through sheer size and viciousness, was victorious and with that win ascended into the innermost circle of Issus's court having absorbed a great house that was already there.

The bloodshed was all that Issus could have hoped for and more. Thurid had held the bloody head of his opponent up for Issus's approval and she had laughed and clapped like a madwoman.

With his win, he was now the dator of a house more than six times the size it had been only a few months ago. His holdings had greatly expanded, but I smiled as I thought that the source of his success was now dead. Had his ‘chemist’ left any of the poison behind? If so, how long would it last?

Thurid’s presence became almost constant in the court of Issus. His learning face ever in front of Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, or me as we served the goddess. I suspected if he had his way, we would be entertainment for him before we met our fate in half a year’s time.

Just half a year after the slave riots, the number of handmaids that had viewed Issus a year before was almost nonexistent. It would be a full half-year before the sacrifice of those who had viewed the goddess one year before would resume with Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, and me. That is provided we lived that long.


	37. The Beginning of the End

### The Beginning of the End

A ten-day or so after the last games, Thuvia and I were picked to serve the goddess. While our current situation was better than being chained to her throne or the wall almost constantly, it was nerve-wracking to be so often in the presence of the madwoman.

As we set out, none could know if the day was to be mind-numbingly dull or horrifyingly gruesome.

I can only assume the rest of the handmaids were happy to see us chosen so often as it reduced the chances of them running afoul of a foul mood.

Today was to be different than any other we experienced in our captivity, much different.

The morning started as many others had with a full slate of almost nothing planned. In some ways, this was the worst duty as Issus became bored very easily. It was only by some random roll of the dice if that boredom were resolved by long naps or a trip to the torture chamber to watch some underlings demonstrate a new technique on an unfortunate victim.

Our day had just started with Thuvia and me in our places, ready to serve the goddess. Dejah Thoris was chained to the empty throne sitting with her head held high and a straight back. She usually did not move, and many might mistake her for a convincing life-like statue. Her regular breathing and a slight movement of her eyes from time to time the only betraying signs of life. Issus sometimes occasionally jerked on the chain connected to the ring around her neck just to watch her flinch or sway.

But now, Issus was tottering around the room, almost like she had forgotten why she got up in the first place. She made no sign of needed or even wanting our help. Her wanderings taking her from one end of the room to the other in an almost random pattern.

As we watched, we heard a commotion in the antechamber. Issus had left orders to not be disturbed today, and the sound attracted her attention and a scowl. Whoever was making that noise was likely to die in the next few minutes.

Suddenly one of the first born entered the room, barely able to contain himself with the news he bore. He went through the rituals of greeting Issus. I became curious as to what news could be important enough to cause this low-level functionary to risk immediate death by disturbing the goddess and almost forgetting the appropriate timing of the various steps in his greeting.

The man seemed to me to have a death wish.

When, finally, he stood before the goddess, she asked him the reason for the interruption, he and we could not know the impact of the news.

“The Thern fleets have launched! The promised invasion by Helium is underway. The fleets of Carthoris and Hor Vastus have been spotted along with a second fleet of transports and escorting battleships. It is assumed this second fleet transports the Thark horde,” the man almost shouted, his voice filling the room and bouncing off the walls. 

The startled look on Issus's face remained there for a few seconds. I wondered if she understood the implications. But it seemed she did.

“Tell me all you know,” commanded Issus.

"The forces of Helium and Thark are soon to engage with the thern fleet. The thern have only just now received word from their own spies keeping an eye on Carthoris. They report that the Helium fleet contains a thousand of the largest battleships, each equipped to navigate the waters of the Omean. Each battleship carries five ten-man cruisers, ten five-man scouts, and a hundred one-man scouts; each of them modified to sail the Omean.

"The Tharks are on nine hundred large troopships and convoyed by unmodified battleships. The Tharks appear to be the shock troops, but there are a million warriors in the troops carried by the ships out of Hastor."

Every word the thern spies reported to Matai Shang was overheard by the first-born spies in the walls and under the floors. Nothing went on in the thern court that was unknown to Issus and through the ears of the handmaidens in serving Issus unknown to those in the common room of the handmaidens of Issus. I didn’t know how long ago my father had received this very same information, but it could not have been long.

Issus, for once coming fully aware demanded, "Bring my admirals to me, NOW!"

The hustle of the court increased, and soon the highest-ranking of the raiders' home fleet and those that had been until recently raiding the nations of the planet were standing before the throne of Issus. Dejah Thoris, still as a statue, watched. Thuvia and I stood almost as motionless and, for the most part, invisible to those coming and going. It was only when Thurid entered the room that I felt the eyes of the dator rake over my body as if he already possessed it. His eyes then danced over Thuvia, and finally Dejah Thoris. He had made sure that each of us had observed him looking us over.

“I want the entire fleet ready to depart as soon as possible, but I don’t want you to engage until the full fleet is clear of the exit. We will have no one rushing to meet the enemy before the rest are ready. There are too many battleships in the air to risk being defeated in detail. Once the thern and the Helium fleets are engaged and have taken damage, at the discretion of the fleet admiral, the first born fleet is to descend on them both and destroy both the upstart thern and those from Thark and Helium.”

I was surprised at the strength and clarity of the orders given. Issus was showing a flash of what she must have been in her youth. A youth that was now eons in the past.

The plan to me sounded sane and as general orders go competent. But, I am not a warrior. I don't know if there were better options available. 

The further conversation the officers had as they left indicated that it would be a good time to crush both the thern fleet and the Helium ships loyal to Carthoris. With a demonstration of crushing power, the pirates would cow both the red races and the white and maybe preserve the status quo.

Issus remained sitting on her throne with a cunning satisfied look playing about her ancient face. I could only imagine the thoughts running through her head but as often as she glanced at Dejah Thoris chained at her feet. I knew she must be looking forward to the culmination of her plans concerning the woman and her son. 

Directing her attention to a nearby guard, many of whom were now stationed about the room, Issus commanded, “You, take a detail and this slave and secure her in one of my private chambers, there to await her doom in the presence of her son, Carthoris. He should be soon captured. And then we can begin the proceedings."

I glanced at Thuvia in time to see a stone mask fall over her face as she watched her friend being escorted to a gruesome fate.

Issus turned to Thurid, who was standing just behind her right shoulder, and said, "Be ready for your part in the destruction of the Helium princess and her son."

I noticed the leering avariciousness in Thurid's eyes. I knew now what that first action in the torture of Dejah Thoris must be. It wasn't any different than the torture that countless others had endured over the eons. I was sure that this particular twist had been suggested by Thurid himself. At that point, I realized that in many ways, Thurid was much the same as the stories Thuvia told of Sator Throg.

I glanced at Thuvia and caught her glancing at me, in that moment, we knew part of the fate of our fellow captive. And we knew that given Thurid's new prominence in the court, we would likely suffer similarly at some point.

Some time passed as we waited for the long and lengthening day to progress when a new messenger from the spies in the walls of the Holy Hekkador arrived.

After being shown directly into Issus and dispensing with most of the time-consuming ritual of greeting the goddess, they got to the point. The next words were to have a profound effect on my life.

“John Carter is alive! Alive and at the head of the Heliumite fleet headed towards the thern temples. We only now got the intelligence from our spies at Matai Shang's court as he just now learned himself from the spies he had in Helium. Some of his spies were discovered. That delayed the word getting to him.”

Issus sat upright. I thought she might be suffering a stroke, but she slowly spoke and turning to Thurid, "Take Phaidor and Thuvia into chains and ready them for the coming entertainment. I'll have Dejah Thoris retrieved later to join them, but you personally will guard these two but do not touch them until I am present and ready for my revenge."

At a signal from Thurid, chains were fetched and Thuvia and I found ourselves once again facing the same fate as Dejah Thoris for our love of John Carter. Now bearing chains and being led by Thurid towards a part of the temple we had hoped to never see again. We were escorted to the private torture chamber, its raised dais on one side and an array of chains and tables with straps and fasteners to better immobilize the victims of the coming 'entertainment' arrayed about the room. Here, we were chained to the wall opposite the dais to await our fate. Each of us was spread against the wall, our wrists high above our heads at an angle, and our legs spread in a like manner. We were held firmly against the wall by the manacles at the wrist and ankle. It was a most uncomfortable position, But soon, that would be the least of our worries.

While we waited, Thurid sat on Issus's throne, apparently in speculative thought. The rest of the escort had been sent back to guard Issus. We were alone with the sadistic scheming dator.

After a while, Thurid tried to draw us into a conversation. When that failed, he started explaining exactly what he planned for each of us before handing us over to Issus's tortures. Each of us were to meet a slightly different humiliation at his hands in front of John Carter and maybe Carthoris. I could tell as I watched Thuvia that the thought of being humiliated in front of Carthoris was as painful as that of being humiliated in front of John Carter. And from that, I suspected that she knew something about Carthoris that would cause him great pain at watching her degradation.

Of course, then Thurid started explaining that both John Carter and Carthoris were in for much the same treatment when their time came. At this news, my stomach turned, and I caught a glimpse of what it must be like to be powerless to help those that one loved. The love of John Carter flared brighter in my heart.

Neither Thuvia nor I had any interest in providing any amusement for Thurid as we waited. So we retreated to our own thoughts and fading hopes and did our best to hide our emotions, not always successfully.

I was not resigned to my fate; I would find a way to make Issus and Thurid pay. I had hours to fantasize about what I would do to him and to her. The descriptions of their plans for us only helped me visualize their own suffering at my hands.

Eventually, even Thurid became bored with tormenting us verbally and sat back down to await the arrival of Issus. Sounds of fighting eventually reached our ears. The fact that Helium's forces had made it so far into the temple of Issus attested to their success in defeating the thern fleet and maybe the first born fleet. It was only much later that I found out about the maneuvering of the mutiny reinforced Helium fleet to lure first born and thern into fighting each other while they disengaged to pursue their goals in Issus's temple.

When Issus did arrive, it was dragging Dejah Thoris with her and throwing her into Thurid's arms. The words out of her mouth were as unexpected as any I could have dreamed in a thousand years.

“The forces of John Carter are at our door, take these three to the Temple of the Sun and find the open chamber, there imprison them to serve out their year. I will put these three beyond the chance of rescue. But if by chance any of them survive the year, we should have the world back to normal then and I can proceed with my plans undisturbed. And should Dejah Thoris be the one who survives, then will John Carter witness the agonizing death of his love! If one of the others survives, it shall a long slow death for John Carter as the survivor watches, then she will join him in death in the same way he died."

“As you command.” was Thurid's only response, but I could see something else playing behind his eyes. “

Issus was almost back to her normal self as she commanded the dator here in her private torture chamber. She was in familiar surroundings and doing familiar things. The look of hate directed at us against the wall and the one who now stood in the firm grasp of Thurid.

Issus turned to leave, at the doorway, she paused, almost as if she didn't know which direction to take. Where would she be safest? Where could she go to wait out the destruction of the invading armies and navies?

She must have come to some conclusion as she turned left and disappear from my sight, the last I ever saw of her. At some signal I couldn't see, three of the warriors stayed to guard the door. And I assumed to escort us to our fate.

Dejah Thoris, looking like she had just lost her best friend, looked down at the new and heavier chains holding her feet and hands close together.

Thuvia, more curious than the rest of us, asked, "And what is this Temple of the Sun? Why not just kill us here and now?"

Thurid's leering face turned towards Thuvia, “What makes you think you're not already dead? But to answer your question.

"The temple is at the center of the complex, it is the spire that rises high into the air, but there is much more to it. Have you ever noticed the regular markings along the side of the spire? These make a kind of calendar, if you know what you’re looking at, you can tell the day of the year from that spire. You see it rotates once a year, and those markings as viewed from the inner chambers of Issus tell her what day of the year it is. But there is much more to it than a simple calendar. It is there beneath that spire that the main body of the temple exits. And this main body rotates and is that which the spire is built upon. The building is a long cylinder buried under the ground. This cylinder is separated into six hundred and eighty-seven chambers, one atop the other. The only entrance to these chambers is via a spiraling ramp that circles the temple. Only one of the chambers is accessible each day. The ramp cut into solid rock has a corridor to each chamber branching off it as you descend.

"As the entire Temple of the Sun revolves once with each revolution of Barsoom about the sun, once a year the entrance to each separate chamber come opposite the mouth of the corridor which forms its only link to the outside world. By looking at the date you know how far down to go to find the open chamber.

"It is there that Issus has decided the three of you will serve out the rest of your year of service to her.”

Keeping a firm grip on the chain detaining Dejah Thoris he gathered the chains that connected to our collars and stepped upon the dais containing the throne of Issus with its many buttons and levers. He reached over the side of the throne to the other side of the chair and pressed a button, but nothing seemed to happen, I didn't know what that button was supposed to do, maybe the device connected to that button was broken or needed some preparation before use and why did he push it when Issus hadn't instructed him to any such thing? I shrugged mentally and turned my attention to the dejected form of Dejah Thoris, what had happened? Was her son dead? Not John Carter based on the fear still present in Issus. As I contemplated her mood Thurid pushed the button that released the shackles holding me against the wall. Then he touched one button and the shackles around Thuvia's wrists and ankles snapped open.


	38. The Temple of the Sun

**The Temple of the Sun**

Dragging us along with the escort Issus had left him, Thurid led the way to the innermost chambers and courtyards of the temple complex. We stumbled along behind him as he occasionally yanked on the chains connected to our collars. Entering a small circular courtyard, we found the tower rising far into the air. Instead of heading straight across the radius to the spire we turned left, a ramp situated against the exterior wall of the building we had just left seemed to be our destination.

It was then I assumed the courtyard was roughly the same area as the cylinder below and the ramp we were walking toward wound around the temple as it revolved below us.

Looking I could see a circular seam in the stones of the yard and these stones had regular markings and symbols along that seam, I could only guess that the center part turned along with the spire atop it and that the markings told the day, and maybe even the zode and xat. We started descending the ramp winding its way down along the perimeter of the central tower. It was a long journey down but eventually, we reached a corridor with a lit indicator above the entrance. Here, Thurid and the guards escorted us to our home for the next year and likely our grave in about half that time.

After we entered the chamber our escort guarded us as slaves carried cases of small cans. These were standard rations for a nation’s army and navy and while not that tasty would keep a warrior alive and healthy.

I looked around and could see that water was provided via plumbing running down the center of the chamber as well as ways to flush away bodily waste. I wondered how many of the chambers were currently occupied, did we have company? Was there any way to communicate?

Thurid dismissed the escorting guards and slaves. Alone, and out of earshot of anyone else, Thurid shut the gate locking us into our prison with a cunning look in his eyes.

“Those guards will not return; you are trapped with only half a year’s supply each and it will be a full year before this room becomes accessible again. To provide you a chance of survival with rationing and one or two more sources of food one of you may survive to see that day. Of course, the earlier one of you dies the more food there is left for the remaining survivors. If two of you die early, then there is a year and a half supply for the sole survivor."

With those words ringing in our ears he steps back unsheathes the long wicked dagger at his waist and tosses it over our heads into the back of the chamber where it came to rest unnoticed and untouched as we were more interested in ways to escape this chamber before the rotation of the tower put us out of reach of rescue.

But even then, in that time of stress, my brain was working and latches onto a fantasy that when the chamber opens once more at the end of the year the only one left to greet John Carter will be me.

Thurid turns without another word or look and leaves us to our fate.

Dejah Thoris's voice softly came to my ear as she looked at Thuvia, a shared love of John Carter shining in her eyes, “I saw John Carter.“

“Where?” was Thuvia's stunned response, “How could you have seen him and yet still end up here?”

“It was my own foolishness, nay honor, that compelled him to return to the fight, we both thought he had hidden me well enough in the pits under the temple and my son was out in that chaotic combat. A mother and a father could not stand by while their son took such risks, never mind the duties of a prince and a princess to those fighting for them. I did not stay hidden, I needed to see my son, I needed to protect him if I could, so I ventured out to find a sword and join the fight. That didn't go well.”

“Oh, to be in his arms once again to feel safe once more. I told myself during this long captivity that if I got to see him one more time before I died that it would be enough, but it isn’t. To feel his arms around me, his tears falling on face one more time would not be enough, not even close to enough.”

Tears, John Carter, weeping? What a wasteful use of water. I couldn't help myself; I was so surprised and curious.

“Tears?”

Dejah Thoris turned to me at my question. “Yes tears, you must remember he is a Jasoomian. Water is everywhere on his planet. Tears are present when one is very sad or very happy. I know his tears were for joy.”

In my presence John Carter had always looked the part of a proper thern, even when he removed the wig and revealed his black hair, I still saw the thern. But thern did not weep, not ever, at least according to my father that was the case. I was guilty of a few tears leaking from time to time but to full-on weep?

“I must confess that being in his life for those five years he was with us on his first journey to our planet I came to accept and even to allow myself to cry tears of sorrow or tears of joy. It might not be approved on our drying world, but there is a release a cleansing in the flow of tears that matches nothing else I know of.”

This confession from Dejah Thoris was unexpected and felt too intimate. I became uncomfortable in my skin, something was pricking at my brain.

“Tell me more of your time with John Carter,” requested Thuvia, “for I fear that may be the only joy we experience for some time, and perhaps will be the last moment of joy for any of us here.”

Dejah Thoris looked at Thuvia as she started, “I confess I had given up hope that John Carter was alive, all the reports coming to Issus were that he had not been seen in Helium for close to half a year. No word of him, the thern spies were convinced he was dead and tossed down some bottomless pit under the palace of Zat Arris, I confess I had begun to mourn yet again, but again the reports of Carthoris and his efforts to secretly refit a fleet to take the first born kept me in this world, if my son were successful then at least we would avenge his father together. The shock of seeing him as he entered that chamber where Issus had sent me was beyond words. And yes, I cried then.”

“I asked after Carthoris, and he told me that he was here with the Heliumite forces, fighting even as we spoke, that it must be his men involved in the sounds of combat coming to our ears. I didn't want him to leave me, but I could see he was anxious to be out doing something to end the reign of Issus and to keep our son safe. He told me of the tunnels and chambers running down and under the temple and that there might be a hiding place for me there until he could return for me. I didn't want to, but I knew honor and duty demanded that we be separated once again, but it should have been only for a short while. Now it looks like it could be an eternity."

I noticed that Thuvia had sat a bit straighter and leaned toward Dejah Thoris to be sure to catch every word when the topic was Carthoris. I then wondered if the woman's heart had begun to wander from father to son. Not that it mattered to any of us. We were doomed to die either here at the hands of one of the others, or most likely if we survived by the hand of one of Issus's tortures.

“It was either by luck or they knew exactly where I was, but Issus showed up with a small guard and found me searching the room, I put up as much of a struggle as I could and I was in the process of strangling one of them with one of my silks when another knocked me on the head stunning me enough to keep me from killing his companion and allowed him to bring me here to join you. I confess they may have had to carry their comrade out as he was not in much better shape than I and I only caught a blurry glimpse as one of them slung me around. Even now I feel a knot coming up on the side of my head.”

She winced as her hand touched the spot on her head. The life seemed to go out of her a bit at the reminder.

John Carter was here, Dejah Thoris had seen him, spoken to him, held him in her arms, kissed him. And he had kissed her. The flair of jealousy at the thought clouded my emotions and I think my ability to reason. I just wanted to be away from all this.

At a look, we each realize we wanted to be alone but alone was impossible, by unspoken mutual agreement we retreat to our own thoughts and our own bit of wall as far from the others as we could get in the round chamber.

I slumped against the wall of the circular room directly opposite the entrance. The others took places equidistant from me and from each other. Deep in my own thoughts and fears, I sat waiting. Trapped for a year with only these two women for company, me the only thern, outnumbered, alone and – unloved.

There I sat feeling as alone and powerless as I had ever felt in my life, out of the corner of my eye I noticed the dagger where it had come to rest. Automatically I picked it up and slid it into my harness. If anyone was going to survive this ordeal it was going to be me and the best way for the one without friends or allies was to have the sole dagger in the room.

The cans of rations had been stacked along the curved wall on each side of the entrance to the chamber, this put the entrance and the rations between Dejah Thoris and Thuvia. The entrance to the room was flanked by the tiny life-sustaining rations, for us all to survive there would have to be once again as many of the cans stacked there. I stared at the cans knowing this was the final improvised torture. Either Thurid or Issus has commanded this, either would inflict just this sort of thing on the three of us. As improvised torture, it was devious and heartbreaking.

There was only enough if rationed out carefully for three people to last half a year. One person could last a year and a half, even if one of us died today there would not be enough for the remaining two to last the year. Only one person was coming out of this cell and only then if they killed everyone else in time so that the remaining rations would last them the year. And what fate awaited the one who survived? Would Issus have beaten back this attack and she would then execute the remaining survivor in one of her meticulously researched agonizing deaths? Or if John Carter and Helium were successful what fate for the one who survived if that one was not Dejah Thoris? My only hope was if, in the end, my father wrested control from both Issus and John Carter. That was unlikely. The therns while not cowards nor without combat skills were not numerous enough to overcome either the remnants of the first born or the forces of Helium and her allies.

I noticed it first, I am not sure why as I was farthest from the entrance to our cell but the first whiff of smoke seemed to snake directly to my nose and so my conscious thought that we wouldn't have to wait a year to die was a surprise.

"Fire," I said.

The other two looked at me and then they too noticed the smell in the air. We each looked at the others and there were mixed emotions of relief and fear on each of our faces for I am sure mine reflected what theirs were telling me.

We awaited our fate, either the entrance would close as the tower revolved and shut out the smoke and the fire or we would die of smoke inhalation and we wouldn't have to worry about who would live and who would die and by whose hand each of us would go.

The massive bars blocking our way to freedom kept slipping further and further behind the adjoining wall soon there would not be anything but the wall on the other side of those bars. But then we heard voices and running feet approach the entrance, someone was in the connecting corridor someone looking for his princess, John Carter.

We all stood up when we heard voices and we moved towards the entrance to see who could be out in the fire and smoke.

Dejah Thoris, Thuvia, and I stood trying to see out into what was left of our view of the corridor there was just enough room left that if the bars had not been there we could have squeezed out sideways but that was a hopeless thought. The rescuers would have to have the keys with them to make that a reality.

Suddenly John Carter is at the gate with a frantic look on his face. The sound of fear and longing in John Carter's voice as he cried out “Xodar, can no power stop this awful revolving thing? Is there none who holds the secret of these terrible bars?”

Xodar's reply came to our ears, "None, I fear, whom we could fetch in time, though I shall go and make the attempt. Wait for me here." The sound of retreating feet echoed in the corridor as we three sought any word of comfort or love from the one standing on the other side of the bars.

Dejah Thoris reached out a hand through the bars to take hold of John Carter's and there they stood with heads as close together as they could get and spoke in low tones and whispers. My heart sank and again my fear and loneliness brought a cold stabbing feeling to my breast.

Nothing. Not one word could John Carter spare for either Thuvia or me. Not one.

I looked at Thuvia and she was in thought and eventually she left, whether out of respect for their privacy or at the rejection I knew not but I knew my own feelings, my own rejection, my own worthlessness as far as he was concerned.

"John Carter," I said as the last attempt at any word of kindness – anything other than complete indifference, "this be the last time that you shall see any of us. Tell me that you love me, that I may die happy."

"I love only the Princess of Helium," he replied. "I am sorry, Phaidor, but it is as I have told you from the beginning."

Biting my lip and trying to keep from crying, crying, Barsoomians do not cry, Therns do not cry! Dejah Thoris was as close to happy as any of the three of us could be, only she was worthy of his love of his kindness, not even Thuvia who had saved his life, nor me who had done the same, merited a kind word, even a word of kind regards.

They stood there talking at the ever-narrowing entrance, Thuvia and I stood in our claimed spots along the wall. Soon the rotating entrance would be too small for any of us to pass, Dejah Thoris would sometime after that have to withdraw her arm or risk it being mangled and broken by the relentless rotation of the tower.

Even now we could hear the sounds of conflict floating down from above, the fight for the temple was not over, and the fate of the world hung in the balance. The world was burning. The smoke was growing noticeably thicker and we were starting to have more difficulty taking deep breaths.

A voice from some distance away was yelling, the fear in the voice reaching us, "Come back, John Carter, come back!" Even the pits are burning."

Soon the fire would reach us and if the entrance were still open the smoke would kill us all. Suddenly there were many voices outside the narrowing space, at the sound of one of the voices Thuvia lifted her head and a longing wistful look passed across her beautiful features.

I heard the voice of Xodar yelling to be heard in the din and confusion of the fighting and the fire, "There is no hope, John Carter. The keeper of the keys is dead, and his keys are not upon his carcass. Our only hope is to quench this conflagration and trust to fate that a year will find your Princess alive and well. I have brought sufficient food to last them. When this crack closes no smoke can reach them, and if we hasten to extinguish the flames, I believe they will be safe."

"Go, then, yourself and take these others with you," John Carter replied. "I shall remain here beside my Princess until a merciful death releases me from my anguish. I care not to live."

All the while John Carter was wasting time talking to Dejah Thoris, Xodar had been busy trying to free us and baring that feed us. He was now tossing cans into the room as fast as he could the men behind him providing a steady stream of cans being passed to him. Soon the number of cans littering the floor was equal to the number already stacked along the walls beside the entrance and perhaps more.

Dejah Thoris had had to remove her arm from the entrance a while back as it had grown too narrow even for her arm to pass. Eventually, only the eyes of John Carter could be seen through the smoke. Dejah Thoris was telling him to save himself, to think, to trust to fate that she would be here waiting for him at the end of a year. But John Carter was mad with fear for his precious princess, unreasoning.

Then something took hold of me, irrational and unreasoning. John Carter must have noticed movement as I stood and crossed the room catching his eye. I would not be ignored or rejected. I would not!

"Think not, John Carter, that you may so lightly cast aside the love of Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang. Nor ever hope to hold thy Dejah Thoris in thy arms again. Wait you the long, long year; but know that when the waiting is over it shall be Phaidor's arms which shall welcome you--not those of the Princess of Helium. Behold, she dies!"

I rushed toward Dejah Thoris with Thurid's dagger held high concentrating on my target.

I had forgotten Thuvia and Thuvia was there before me holding up her hands to keep me away from Dejah Thoris with a high-pitched scream of frustration I threw the dagger down and sat abruptly weeping into my hands.

The dagger forgotten, my anger and fear flowing through my fingers with the water escaping my eyes. I felt a set of arms settle around my shoulders and pull me into her breast, a gentle rocking calming me even more, her heartbeat comforting me, the heart I was only moments ago threatening, intending, to still forever.

“I told you tears have a way of cleansing.” as she said the words I felt her own tears dropping into my hair, soon Thuvia sat down with us and we huddled in a mass of crying comradery.

After what seemed a long time but must have only been minutes, our tears ceasing and only our shared hug sustaining us, Thuvia's soft voice broke the silence, “It looks like Xodar has saved us for at least the year of our confinement, the smoke in here is clearing and if the plumbing is working we have the water to sustain us and the means of flushing waste. Looks like we're set.”

Thuvia's matter of fact inventory of our situation curiously calmed my nerves even more.

As Thuvia stood up and reached down to help first Dejah Thoris to her feet and then me, I noticed a trickle of blood slowly making its way down the back of my leg. I tried to turn and see where the blood was coming from, but I couldn't set eyes on it, Dejah Thoris noticed my contortions and came around to see what I was trying to look at.

"It looks like you have a nick in the back of your thigh, I don't know where you could have picked that up from."

Thuvia was picking up cans that had been tossed in and lay randomly scattered around the floor, she had started stacking them alongside those Thurid and his guards had supplied and had been meant to be part of our torment. I noticed that she too had a trickle of blood flowing down the back of her leg from a nick just below her right butt cheek.

“Look Dejah Thoris, Thuvia too has a mysterious nick in about the same place.”

Dejah Thoris looking up, “No, it isn't about in the same place it is in the exact same place.”

Thuvia had turned to look at us as we discovered these tiny wounds on each of our bodies. My eyes met Thuvia, the frown on her face must have reflected my own.

“How could you both have the same wound in the same place and only now start bleeding?” wondered Dejah Thoris.

I had a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I saw a matching look of realization on Thuvia's face. I remembered now the tiny pinching feeling I had felt as I stood with my arms above my head and my ankles chained to the wall of the torture room. I hadn't thought much of it then, it had passed quickly and seemed no more than one of those curious sensations one sometimes feels. But it had happened a bit after Thurid had pushed that button that seemed to do nothing.

While I had stood firmly chained in the spot something must have started our preparation for yet another planed torture. Thuvia and I had been placed against that wall and a third place had been reserved for Dejah Thoris. Only the speed of the attack on the temple had prevented the original plans from being executed.

I had seen as had both my companions the trance that one of these tiny cuts with a poisoned stiletto had caused previous victims. The drug administered this way was not immediately life-threatening, but it did cause one to end their life at the completion of their mission. Thuvia and I looked at the dagger where it lay on the floor and we both knew it was now a danger to all of us as at some point we would want to kill Dejah Thoris and then end our agony and there was a ready means to hand.

Dejah Thoris saw the looks of horror on our faces and moving quickly reached the dagger first. She sheathed it in the inner folds of her harness. Now tucked under her arm and close to her own breast the dagger was out of our reach unless we were able to take it from her and use it first on her then on each other, and then lastly on ourselves.

“I am going to ask both of you to trust me,” Dejah Thoris said. “We have all seen this poison work, we know the rage, the killing rage, it causes and that this dagger I have will make me the target of that rage. Since I am the only one not poisoned, I am the only one any of us can trust with it. But to keep either of you from attacking and killing me and then the other I need to bind both of you. And to keep you far apart. Will you let me bind you to save us all?”

Thuvia removed several of her silks and approached Dejah Thoris holding the method of her binding as an offering. Quickly and surely Dejah Thoris led Thuvia to her spot along the circular wall and bound her. Any daughter of a flying nation knew her knots and none of these would slip or loosen.

Turning I walked to my spot and removed several of my own silks waiting for Dejah Thoris to bind me for the coming trial. When she finished with Thuvia she looked up and saw me standing in my place holding my silks ready for her attention. As she took the silks and repeated the process she had just gone through with Thuvia she was surprisingly gentle even as she firmly bound my hands and my feet and then firmly to a set of rings she had found embedded in the wall of our prison. I looked at Thuvia firmly bound to the wall a third of the way around the circumference of the cell and noticed that she couldn't move at all, I understood this, any freedom of motion risked one of us freeing ourselves. In the circumstances that would be a death sentence for us all.

"I'm surprised," she said softly as she looked me in the eye when she was finished rigidly attaching me to the wall.

“It is our only hope of any of us surviving. I can think as logically as the next person.”

Dejah Thoris only nodded at that.

“You are so young to have had this adventure thrust upon you, you cannot be much older than my son.”

"I'm not, I think I may even be a few days younger, the atmosphere plant was a problem for us and we would have restored it but for the red nations' efforts, our valley is low enough that our air was still good and would have allowed us to survive longer. We would have restored the atmosphere plant when all those at the location were dead. John Carter just allowed more of the world to live and it did not come to that in the end. Of course, the first born were lower still in their caverns and I think they even have a means of producing an atmosphere there, they would have out survived us all. Them and the Okars.”

“The who?”

“Another race who inhabits the other end of the world. I'll tell you about them if we all survive this.”

Dejah Thoris smiled then carefully checked her work making sure the knots were correct and would likely hold Phaidor, then she took one last look at Thuvia's bonds and retreated to her own spot waiting for the madness to take hold of her companions. Her only companions for the coming year. Phaidor watched the horror of the thought that she and Thuvia might both succumb to the poison in their veins and leave her alone with their bodies for a year was too much to even contemplate. This was the only time she had seen actual unmitigated fear show on Dejah Thoris's face. Curiously, she wasn't as afraid, if she died at least she wouldn't have to bear this endless torment that her life had become.

The madness took hold of me and all I remember was the need to kill. That was it, that is all I know of that incident. Dejah Thoris refused to talk about it afterword’s and Thuvia's thoughts mirrored my own. One second she feels the need to kill come over her and her initial struggles with the bonds and then, like me, she has her awareness slowly return, nursing bruises, abrasions, and a few shallow bites, most of which seem to have been caused by our own teeth.

Dejah Thoris looked haggard, and exhibited many of the same injuries, except in the case of the bites, there she must have gotten the worst of it. Luckily, she had found among the food tins another set of tins, these well-marked, containing medical supplies, among them the marvelous healing salve all races used on injuries. Whoever had tossed these additional supplies had been thinking ahead, not knowing the situation, they reasoned that a medical addition to the supplies was prudent. And so, it had proved.

Dejah Thoris had bound our wounds while we were out. I later figured out that among the medical supplies had been sedatives that had knocked us out for most of the time the poison had coursed through our veins. But in dealing with us the supply of those sedatives had been exhausted. I think Dejah Thoris had been forced to sedate us with much higher doses than was safe to keep the poison from taking complete hold. The worry of accidentally killing her friend and me must have kept her from sleeping and on edge the whole time.

Getting that sedative into our systems that first time must have been highly dangerous, and since she had not wanted to harm us she had left the dagger out of our reach while she tackled us one at a time. The effort must have been horrific, she had not wanted to hurt us, but we in our state had no problem hurting her.

Surviving the torments of the poison. Dejah Thoris keeping us safe from ourselves and each other. I did, over time, come to have flashes of memory of the initial stages of the drug's effect, I remembered that Dejah Thoris was skilled in unarmed combat, knew where and how hard to hit someone to stun them and if need be render them unconscious. There was danger in some of those techniques, but the risk of death was high while the two of us were under the influence of the drug and some of the more painful bruises had better explanations.

As we healed, we started feeling the need to exercise in our confinement. To that end, Dejah Thoris and Thuvia began practicing the unarmed combat techniques of their respective nations. The two systems were similar but had some differences and I found that my guardsmen's training was much like both. I found that Dejah Thoris's was very much the same as my unnamed but loyal slave, so much so that I came to suspect that her origin must have been Helium.

To pass some of our time in our enforced cohabitation, one that looked like it would last the whole year, we started telling stories of our lives.

My stories were the shortest and the least numerous. I was after all only about six, that equivalent in maturity to about twenty-two jasoomian, years old at this point and most of my life had been spent as a sheltered possession of my father. Neither allowed to travel widely or to have unstructured social intercourse with those around me. My constant companions had been the women of my guard and my body servants. And the woman who I now understood loved me, the woman who had died for me.

I found telling the story of my capture most painful when it came to her death. And that was a surprise both to me and to my companions.

Thuvia looked at me as if searching for my soul and eventually it seemed to come to her that I did have one. She would start asking me about the day to day and the mundane and treat them as being as important as the many adventures Dejah Thoris had had before meeting John Carter those twelve or so years ago. Really in the span of her lifetime John Carter was a small part of it.

Her father was nearing three hundred and her grandfather six hundred. Dejah Thoris had been born when her father was fairly young and her mother was of her grandfather’s generation. Only her love of her husband and her young daughter had kept her from taking the journey down the River Iss. Eventually, when Dejah Thoris had reached a hundred herself her mother decided it was time to leave. She left a note explaining that she was tired of war, tired of the endless struggle, she had decided to take the journey down the River Iss and had ended the letter with the hope that her husband and daughter would one day join her in the land of peace. She would be waiting for them there and looked to see them in about a thousand years not knowing when or if they would be ready to take the journey.

Eventually, even the storytelling, and martial arts practice needed to be tempered with something else. Thuvia thought maybe we could fashion a jetan board by laying alternating squares cut from the discarded cans on the floor and use bits and pieces of food or small items in our purses.

This lasted for about a ten-day.

How did we keep time? How would we tell day from night in our windowless enclosed cell to even know if a day passed?

We knew the date as early on we had discovered that the wall of the cylinder encasing the rotating inner tube had markings on it, as the entrance rotate it revealed a new mark and covered the previous one. The marks were regularly spaced and had a number under it, the number counted down. The first number we had seen was one day short of a Barsoomian year, and the numbers counted down as days passed. We assumed the opening would once again align with the outside just after the mark with the number one below it.

Tired of the makeshift board, Thuvia had started on a way to make one. This happened at about fifty days into our confinement and she finished her creation at about eighty days of captivity. It had taken a few trial and errors to come up with a design and a way to work the mettle with only the dagger using both the blade and the sturdy pommel. Eventually, she had managed the alternating squares in segmented interlocking parts of different colors. Colors of which there were several. The cans had been pilfered off of the ships of a few different nations, each nation has marked their cans for plant vs flesh in different colors, one nation's cans had marked plant-based foods with a can tinted blue and meat-based foods with a red-tinted metal. These colors, Thuvia selected for the board. In the end, she had a board more akin to segmented armor than a standard board with the result that it could be rolled up in either direction so cunning had her design been.

I had watched her trial and error phase of construction with interest but it was Dejah Thoris that would attend to her wounds as she nicked herself several times constructing the board's parts, eventually we all contributed bits of silk to a stock of bandages that were washed, dried, and reused as needed.

During that time Thuvia had fashioned a metal sheath for the dagger blade and a method of locking the blade in place inside the sheath, after that the number of cuts was reduced but not eliminated.

One day Dejah Thoris looking at Thuvia's handiwork said, “I think we will need pieces to play with once that board is finished. I suggest we each design our own out of our most favored color. There are several shades to choose from among these discarded tins. For example, those cans with the dark blue color would most closely match the blue in Helium's colors and I would use that to fashion my pieces. What say you Phaidor?”

“Then I will use those cans with the yellow cast for the color of a thern's hair,” I said taking a liking to this idea.

I would actually be doing something, using my brain to decide what my pieces would look like and how I would construct them. Then I would actually use my hands as Thuvia was doing and make something. Something that could be held, something that was mine and mine alone.

“I guess I had better start eating the vegetables in those cans so that I have enough materials to work with.”

I looked up and saw a surprised look on both Thuvia's and Dejah Thoris's faces.

This activity in and of itself took several days.

We started to spend our days inventing games using the dagger to fashion game parts and pieces out of the remains of the cans that had been left after consuming the contents.

Ultimately, our stories and talk returned to our families. Here I was at a distinct disadvantage. Having no living brothers, no sisters, my mother absent from most of my life. Only my father paying me infrequent visits.

It was during one of these conversations when Thuvia had asked about our mothers, what they were like, what they liked, what they hated, the little things. Thuvia had lost her mother in an air accident and the promise of seeing her mother again in the Valley Dor had been what prompted her own trip down the River Iss. Yes, she wasn't as old as Dejah Thoris but she was at least twenty years older than me.

Dejah Thoris’s mother was, as suspected, the Jedra of Lesser Helium, her grandmother was the Jeddera of all of Helium. The mother and daughter were all that was left after a rival nation had waged a stealthy campaign of murder and assassination. All the aunts and cousins had been killed, only the two women of the royal line were left until Dejah Thoris was born to provide hope for the future.

Dejah’s mother, Morsa Ansana, had protected her and defended her from an assassin’s attack when Dejah Thoris had been no more than Phaidor’s age now. During that attack, Morsa Ansana had sustained a wound to her abdomen. It hadn’t threatened her life but it did prevent her from laying any eggs in the future.

The look on Dejah Thoris’s face as she told the story told me that the attack still haunted her. 

She continued; it was that wound that eventually caused her mother to take the final trip down the River Iss. Here Dejah Thoris looked at Phaidor with a curious look.

“I know what likely happened from there, John Carter told me that most are killed by the plant-men and eaten by the white apes that roam the valley floor. She might have caught the eye of the thern on duty, but that chance is slim. As far as I know, my mother died over a hundred years ago.”

I was surprised she could look at me then with anything approaching compassion. But she did.

Dejah continued that her mother had intended to have more children, and hopefully more daughters to spread the burden of continuing the royal line of Helium. To reduce the target on any one of them by again increasing the number of branches.

At my turn, I confessed that I knew truly little of my mother, she had been gone from the court shortly after her year mated to my father. It was nearly right after I broke my shell. I only knew she observed the stars and the planets in her remote compound dedicated to studying and knowledge of the heavens.

Instead of stories of my mother, I told of my body servant who had raised me, educated me, held me when she was afraid, and consoled me when I fell.

“I never knew my servant's name, in the beginning, my servant did not even know who she was taking care of.

“The Holy Hekkador, my father, had forbidden the use of names between us. When I had asked a couple of years later why he had said that names form a bond and that I was to have no bonds to anyone but him.

“One cannot get along without a name of some sort, so at the start, she told me to call for 'that woman' when she needed me, but she became ‘Slave.’ That simple, ugly demeaning word was what I called her.

“In private when she was tending to my needs, either physical or emotional she called me a secret name in a whisper. No one else knew she called me anything other than 'mistress' in those years. She came to learn my name as, how could she not, being in attendance when my father would visit. Or when I was addressed by the captain of my guards.

“When I was about three, she stopped using that secret name with me. The only exception was in the deception she and the guards used when planning my education and physical training. I've missed her calling me by that name ever since, but I couldn't admit that to anyone, not even to myself. Not until now.

“Would you mind sharing now with us what she called you the first years of your life?” Thuvia asked, the look of curiosity brightly burning on her face.

As I looked at her wondering if even now, I would share that word and phrase for it wasn't really a name I used with her and Dejah Thoris. Somehow sharing it with them would degrade or demean the memory of that special woman.

Thuvia's skin darkened a shade from the normal bright copper to a deeper red.

"I'm sorry, I was very curious. I had spent so long in a thern household where not a single kind word was ever spoken. I wanted to hear of just one kind thing a woman of the outside world could call a thern." The contrite tone of Thuvia's voice and the reminder of the horrors she had endured at the hand of Sator Throg swayed me just enough to answer.

“The woman, 'that woman', ‘Slave’, called me 'my second heart', and by a word she said meant the same in a language long dead.”

“What was the word?” asked Dejah Thoris in a soft curious voice with an oddly inflected tone that puzzled me.

“That word I have never heard again and still don't really understand was ‘Demah’.”

At this revelation, Dejah Thoris sat up straight her spine stiffening as if she had just seen a spirit of the past.

“How did she come to call you that, did she ever explain?” asked Dejah Thoris.

“I am sad to say I don't know why she called me that, and the phrasing was odd, almost as if she were about to speak some other language, something like what I've heard shared by the first born in my captivity.”

“Yes, I had noticed that myself, that old, very old, language they sometimes use to communicate in private. That language was one of the topics of my mother's studies. I could from time to time understand a word here and there in their conversations. My own name is derived from that language.”

“The meaning of my name in that ancient tongue is “My First Heart,” I always took that to mean that she hoped for more children. When her wounds in battle made that impossible I think it was then that she decided she would take the journey down the River Iss when I had reached my hundredth year, that was over a hundred years ago.”

“Did you ever discover the name of your body servant?” Thuvia asked.

“No, I never did. She had been forbidden to use it. When I asked those around me, they said that she had been a slave for many many years and that her name was lost to everyone but the Holy Hekkador, I always wondered why her name had been so hidden. Once my father let slip that if many of the slaves heard it they might come to think of ways to kidnap her and use her for their own ends. I think she must have been someone particularly important in the outside world.”

“Describe her to me, please.”

I looked into Dejah Thoris's eyes, there I saw a mixture of hope and fear.

As I describe her in as much detail as I could, relating the many scars that in no way diminished her beauty I saw Dejah Thoris start to cry. It was only the third time I had seen anyone full-on cry with streams of tears sliding down her face to drop off the point of her chin. Both times before had been her. Well, there was that time we all sat in each other’s arms and cried together. This time there was a look of wonder and sorrow on her face.

“Oh, to come so close and not see her one more time.”

I looked to Thuvia for an explanation, but I see a look of wonder reflected there.

“Her pet name for you, in that ancient language would a have been Demah Thoris, my second heart. My mother adopted you as her own.” Dejah Thoris's quiet soft voice shook my heart. I was stunned.

The woman who had protected me who had raised me who had secretly trained me for a life other than simply laying an egg was the mother of the princess of Helium.

She would have been the Jedra of Lesser Helium and the daughter of the Jeddera of Helium Dejah Thoris's grandmother. There were many questions I wanted to ask. I knew that Dejah Thoris did not have any aunts or great-aunts nor that she had any living female cousins. The fact that all of Helium would risk every warrior to retrieve her was a testament to that fact.

Mors Kajak was Tardos Mors' son by marriage. John Carter or his chronicler on earth missed that part, or he thought that many in Jasoom's societies were not ready for that truth. That right of rule passed through the women of the planet. That though men were the warlords, the women were the administrative and for the most part judicial officials. Only in matters of conflict were the men judges.

I had much to think about after that conversation and we did not bring it up again for a long time.

After one of our games at about countdown day four hundred, which of course Dejah Thoris won, but I had given a much better account of myself than when we had first started, Dejah Thoris picked up my pieces to return them to me, then a look of contemplation appeared on her face she took my piece that represented the queen in my set. I watched her as she took the piece in her hands turning it over and inspecting the design and craftsmanship. I wondered if she noticed the subtly embossed design of the royal house of Helium on the base, I watched her as she examined my other pieces each with thern rank glyph. All except the king which had the glyph for Jasoom embossed on the base.

Growing uncomfortable I broke the silence, “I know, thern do not work, do not make anything, but it looked so interesting when Thuvia was building the board. As she started developing the board I watching her try different things, then as she settled on the design of her board and it came to being, That was the first time I had actually seen anything like that. I was intrigued. The very thought of taking refuse and using it for something else in and of itself was a revelation to me. I wanted to give it a try."

Dejah Thoris said, “Demah, I now see what my mother must have observed in your earliest days, she saw this spark which all the others around her missed, and even you would have dismissed as beneath you.”

Demah? Dejah Thoris was using her mother's name for me. I knew now that it was related to her own name. Tears sprang to my eyes. I was surprised at the swiftness of their appearance and the difficulty I had in suppressing them. Just then, Dejah Thoris looked up and saw the glint of the unshed tears. She smiled. "Call me Dejah, my sister."

Thuvia had been watching. She smiled. "Can I call you sister? I see Dejah Thoris more like a mother to me but to have a younger sister would be fun."

The tears broke free then. I tried to stifle the sob that broke from my throat and squeezed my heart.

Dejah moved and put an arm around my shoulder and pulled my head into the crook of her arm where I could hear again the steady beat of a heart I once would have stilled forever.

“How can you accept me like this when you know I love your husband and tried to kill you, one who has wished you dead many times?”

“I love him too, how can I blame you for doing the same? As for trying to kill me, the way you dropped that dagger when you had a chance to kill both Thuvia and me, no, something in you is better and more honorable than that. We all saw it that day.”

“But you don't know what might happen in the future, I don't know what I might do. I am and always will be a thern, with instincts and training so contrary to your ways.” I felt the tears crawl across my cheeks and drop off my chin, “I do want to be more than that. I am going to be more than that. But I can feel the thern in me always ridiculing, always feeling superior, I find myself having to often check my impulses and thoughts and remember the new things I have learned to remember the way I in my better moments want to be.”

Pushing me upright Dejah brushed the remaining tear from my face, “You will be better, I am here to help. And I expect you to help me when I step out of line, as I will, being hatched both more intelligent and of higher rank than almost anyone else I know. That is a burden and is too easy to succumb to my own thoughts remarkably similar to your own.”

“I think we all can in some ways relate to those feelings of superiority,” Thuvia's sober face was deep in thought, “of having talents others do not, of being born into privilege and power. Some of us have had sudden and painful lessons in realizing all of it is illusion, that we are, except by circumstance, no different than those who serve us.”

Thuvia continued, "I know that if ever I were to return to the court of my father, I would make efforts to repatriate our war captives perhaps as an exchange for our war captives held in other cities. And I would rather employ my servants from now on, providing them freedom of movement and the ability to seek better if they can find it."

My head is almost hurting, “Such thoughts are so strange, but I think I see where you are coming from, I am so sorry that you suffered so at the hands of Sator Throg. I wonder that you can look on my skin and blond hair and not see the horrors of that time.”

“Oh, I think that is one of the traps we fall into,” said Thuvia, ”I feel it tugging at me, it is easy to blame others who remind us of our tormentors for that torment. Blaming others based on appearance or gender or race only builds on the damage done by that one who tormented us. They tear us apart, separate us from the support we might otherwise have in each other. And in that vein, if we are rescued from this tower by forces friendly to John Carter, I will use whatever influence I have to keep you safe, to make sure you are not persecuted for the sins of Sator Throg and those like him. As for those things you did, that I cannot help, but I can and do accept that you did as you were taught from your youngest moment. Your willingness to fight those impulses, those ingrained behaviors, tells me you are worth my friendship.”

"If it is John Carter that greets us, you have my word, I will protect you, and I have a lot of influence with those friendly to John Carter.” Dejah's smile was both amused and adamant.

We whiled away our time playing jetan, and even invented our own games and continuing to manufacture pieces and parts of the cans as they emptied. Most of our games were variations on jetan, experiments with new pieces and differing range of motion, some of the games used the patterns found on the floor of our cell as pathways. We fashioned multi-sided dice to use as randomizers. Games and stories kept us mostly sane. And to say it was all fun and games would have been a lie. There were times when one or the other of us would fall into a funk or become agitated at our enforced confinement. There were some scuffles and some making up, always at least one of the three remained sane, even if that one was a different one each time. We knew, somehow, we knew and managed, to have one of us able to talk down or cheer up the others, I think because necessity forced it on us.

It was almost to the halfway point of our long confinement. We were thinking of creating some sort of ceremony or throwing a party with our favorite foods when things changed and not in any way any of us foresaw.


	39. Early Release

**Early Release**

Three hundred forty-three days had passed, we were almost halfway through our allotted time in this cell, we had more than half the food left, and the water had not failed us. To say we were well would have been a lie, but we were alive and for the most part sane. We had stocked a few of our favorite tins of food together preparing for our little half-year celebration.

Thuvia was busy devising and building another game. She had no lack of material as every day we added to the stockpile of discarded tins of various colors. We each had started eating different nations rations on a rotating basis to provide some small amount of variety. Each nation's rations being slightly different in texture, composition, and taste.

The day marks passed as the slowly revolving cylinder counted down the days until our release. But as the middle day arrived there was something strange about the wall of the tube containing the interior cylinder.

A conceit we had taken a notion to was that the day number appeared at sunup, centered in the doorway at noon, and sunset was marked by the number sliding behind the wall. In our minds, the number functioned as a substitution for the sun. It seemed to work, we would go to sleep not long after the number disappeared behind the wall of our cell, we would sleep, waking refreshed, and the next number would most often follow soon after or maybe even be just starting its passage along the cell entrance.

At the start of the day of that midway point, there appeared a fine line running from the top to the bottom of the cell entrance just before the day number appeared. The wall itself was of a different shade, the change was not large as it was barely noticeable. We speculated that there had been a change in materials those eons ago when the tower was built.

When it came close to noon, the most amazing thing happened. The wall started receding then moving to one side. There was no sound so well had the engineers and craftsmen designed and built the massive hidden door. I wondered if all the cells had a half year hidden door. Was it so that Issus could make people miraculously disappear during that year of captivity?

As the wall slid aside a narrow corridor appeared, and at the end of that corridor were men, most of whom wore yellow wigs with ten colored diadems centered on their forehead.

There was one, not blond, not white, and exceptionally large, decked out in all manner of expensive trappings, that one was Thurid.

My eye slides away from the sight of him and rests on the figure beside him.

"Father!" burst from my lips as the surprise of discovering him and the others standing so unexpected at the end of the just-revealed entrance. We all freeze appearing to be stunned by this new turn of events.

But, Thuvia happened to have the dagger strapped to her thigh as she was currently in the middle of one of her projects and needed the dagger to cut and form her latest game. It was very dagger supplied by Thurid all those days ago in an effort to torment us and perhaps be the instrument of our deaths. I knew she would love to return it to him in the most unpleasant way possible. She carefully and unlatched the safety catch that bound it into the improvised mettle sheath. The sheath still bound to her leg made no noise as she carefully and slowly and she hoped unnoticed drew the blade. Freed from the enclosure the blade gleamed in the light of the radium bulbs that lit the cell.

She kept the dagger out of sight of the party advancing down the passageway. She kept a steady eye on Thurid as he advanced down the tunnel to the bars of the gate. I smiled a little to myself. Perhaps she would be quick enough to kill him before anyone was wiser.

If she did kill him then I was sure I could convince my father to return the two princesses to their own realms. Of course, I was overestimating my powers of persuasion when it came to my father. I had over the course of the year of captivity in Issus court and my confinement in the Temple of the Sun come to view him almost as a real father who might grant a daughter's wish. The result of wishful thinking.

But that was not to be, the moment Thurid unlocked the gate and entered the cell moving quickly he struck Thuvia a wicked surprise blow to the head just as she was about to lunge.

He laughed, "I didn't forget that I threw my own dagger into this cell, I am surprised to see all of you alive. I only expected one to live this long."

Here he paused as if remembering whose ears were nearby and the company he was keeping.

At this point, I took a breath to speak, but Dejah Thoris standing behind me put her hand on the small of my back and it felt like from the contact she was telling me to hold my council until we were better acquainted with the situation. The use of the limited telepathy of the red race surprised me but I managed not to show it. And Dejah Thoris quickly removed her hand before being noticed by the Masters of the Tenth Cycle entering the cell and taking Thuvia and Dejah Thoris prisoner.

These men were strangers, I thought I knew at least by sight all those of the Tenth Cycle. None of these were familiar faces.

The other message Dejah Thoris had managed to convey was to act in all ways the thern princess that I was. It might be the only thing that would save any of us. Dejah imparted in the brief contact the willingness to keep me safe at the expense of her own life. I had to school my face to its almost forgotten haughty immobility at the same time steeling myself for what might be coming.

I was as determined to save her and Thuvia as I felt through that brief communication her determination to save Thuvia and me.

Thuvia noticed the touch and the change in attitude and immediately knew the game. She backed away and said, "You're lucky I didn't kill the white one for her treachery only the fact that you threw her in here with us proved she was not part of Issus's plan to destroy the wife of John Carter from the beginning. But she would have been food if your plan had played out as you expected."

At this, the Holy Hekkador looked at Thurid.

Thurid hurled a hateful look at Thuvia , “I should kill you now for your insolence, you are not worth dragging out of here. A slave with no value in our plans is just a burden.”

He would have struck her again, but I, putting on my best detached voice and a superior tilt of my chin said, "Do not harm her yet, she is the daughter of the Jeddak of Ptarth, she could be useful in what I assume is a changed or changing world."

My father looked at Thuvia as if for the first time. "Yes, Ptarth is still loyal to the old religion. She might be useful."

My father looked at Thurid with doubt plainly in his eyes.

As he turned to Thuvia a puzzled look on his face. I wondered if he recognized her, had she changed so much since she entertained him a year ago? Or, he did recognize her and with the changing world, her value had changed. Instead of just a plaything of Sator Throg, she might now be a key to his restored glory.

The thern escort with my father looked to their Holy Father, at his nod, they took Thuvia and bound her hands behind her back and put a collar around her neck to better control her movements. Then they did the same to Dejah Thoris. Inside I could not help but feel a deep shame. The look from Dejah Thoris seemed to say do not slip now.

I felt the old familiar face settle in as the muscles assumed their old familiar rigidity. I had not noticed until just now how relaxed and happy I had been in the company of only these two. Not having to deal with the pressures of appearance. Along with the old face, many of my old mannerisms and even thoughts of that past life manifested. I drew myself up stiffening my spine and hardening my heart, least it betrays us all.

Thurid, once the two red women were bound, walked up to Dejah Thoris and with his backhand hit her hard enough to leave a darkening red welt and the beginnings of a bruise on her face. I noticed he had waited until she was safely bound. Maybe he thought John Carter might have imparted to her his methods of fighting and he did not relish a repeat of being brought low by a creature of an inferior race.

"That is for the goddess Issus and all her realms now subservient to the red race's whims, and for your husband's part in that."

I thought it was more likely the blow had been partial payback for the humiliation John Carter had brought on Thurid that day when he bound him with his own harness. I had heard the story from some of the slaves of those highborn first-born who had witnessed the incident. And I knew then John Carter had made an enemy for life, at the time, that life seemed to be measurably short, as short as mine was to be.

My father unleashed his anger at the display of absolute loss of control that Thruid's blow had exposed. And I could tell my father was more interested in maintaining his control and position than the revenge Thurid so obviously sought, more so than his next words would indicate.

"Control yourself, we have plenty of time for the retribution on the unbelievers and John Carter in particular. I want Dejah Thoris to be in good health and without a mark when we destroy John Carter and I take her to obtain the resources and ships of Helium."

The look that came over Thurid's face told me he had hoped that it would be he who took Dejah Thoris and thus the empire of Helium.

"And you forget that you are in the presence of my daughter, she might have been nothing but a slave to Issus, but here and now she is my daughter and the vessel that will continue the line of rule of the thern race loyal to the true religion."

I was not sure I liked my father reminding Thurid of that fact, the contemplating look that flashed in his eyes disturbed me. There was no law on Barsoom that prevented a man from taking multiple wives nor in fact a woman taking multiple husbands.

I use the words wife and husband here loosely; the actual rituals and bindings are similar to those of the Jasoomian concept, but it isn't really the same. There are many customs and rules surrounding the red race mating contracts and some of those have been hinted at in the stories told about John Carter. I have come to read and try to understand the language John Carter's chronicler chose and why he chose one word over another. I can only assume as in the foreword of one of those stories that the people of Earth were not ready to hear the whole truth of the society and life on Mars.

"The quicker we can raise a fleet to retake the first-born homeland from that coward Xodar the better."

My ears pricked up at the mention of my captors' name. My confusion must have been apparent, and my father turned to me, "Xodar has been elevated to the rank of Jeddak after the fashion of the red races. He rules the first-born, such as they currently are. Many are unhappy with their fall from grace and in time Thurid and I hope to bring them back to the true religion."

"And who will take Issus's place? Or will the new goddess be a god, the one who deposes Xodar?" My simple question was at the heart of the hopes and fears of the two men, they looked at each other as if agreeing to not start an old argument here and now.

My father looked at me speculatively as he said, "Come Phaidor, we have much to do and we had best be getting started."

I started at the use of my name, I had become Demah for so long. Recovering I asked, "Are we going home?"

"No, that, like the Temple of Issus, is now under the rule of an usurper, one who has also taken the title Jeddak, one of the lower thern who had unknown to me been plotting for years to bring down the Holy Thern and our part in the ancient religion. We are headed to our stronghold, there to plan and make our next moves, first to stabilize our hold on those nations and cities still loyal to the true religion, and then to organize for the eventual overthrow of the usurpers in both the Valley Dor and the Temple of Issus."

Thurid turned to my father and with a half bow said, "My only real motive is revenge, John Carter will pay for his part in our downfall, and his wife will be part of that revenge, **as you promised** , she is to be mine." 

I could tell there was some contention between the two men about the fate of the princess of Helium. Perhaps my father had made a promise to obtain Thurid's help but he had no intention of keeping it once he had what he wanted.

"She is yours only after I have wedded her in the manner of her people and so with that taking control of her empire. You are promised only the use of her after that, not actual possession."

Thurid's angry words to me seemed more for show and to hide his true motives. His evident reward for helping my father was Dejah Thoris, and that worried me greatly. But, that was quickly forgotten as we organized to begin our exit from the cell.

The guards and the Holy Thern accompanying my father and Thurid took up the chains of the red women.

I quickly looked around the circular chamber at the remaining stacks of cans along the sides that would have sustained us for the rest of the year, I look at the fountain of water in the center of the room and lastly I look at the detritus of three beings living and playing their games scattered about. The jetan board and the three sets of pieces catch my eye. I want to take the whole thing but collecting only some silks and three furs that I thought we might need I surreptitiously slipped the three sets of Jedderas and Jeddaks into my harness pouch. My sisters and me and our love held in those six pieces.

I joined the rest as we set out down the corridor to the connecting stairs circling the central core of the tower. Here we were lead down a corridor into a vast cavern but unlike any I had seen before. There were, when I looked carefully, many walls or barriers or partitions of the clearest crystal that created a maze through the chamber. Thurid took the lead as he consulted a chart in his hands and set out through the maze consulting his map often. We had almost reached the door in the wall opposite that at which we started when suddenly a loud and hostile sound reverberated through the crystal walls and down the many passages bouncing the sound so that it came to resemble an eerie and unnatural beast.

In the distance near the entrance to the vast room of the crystal maze there appeared dimly to be a man. a thern, but no thern was usually accompanied by a large and fierce calot of the wastelands. These were normally creatures more associated with the green hordes that roamed the bottoms of the dead oceans and seas. The commotion of the beast as it roared and dashed itself against the partition was enough to draw the attention of our whole party.

As we looked about Dejah Thoris gave a little cry and raising her arms towards the figure yelling "My prince. He is alive! He is here!"

Thurid turned at her display and raised his right fist making a motion like that of a sword or dagger being plunged into a body as if that could in some way affect the ghostly figure at the start of the maze. By all appearances, the man was a thern but the calot by his side and the way he carried himself gave him away to the discerning eye of his wife.

At John Carter's appearance, two of the guards stepped up behind Thuvia and Dejah Thoris each taking hold of the captives' arms at the elbows so that they could rush them along and steer them in the direction they should go. Pushing hard and exerting pressure to keep them on their feet the two were rushed towards the exit that was now so close. The rest of us hurried after them.

The sight of John Carter once more awakened my want and desire for the husband of my friend, my sister. That he was once again in the guise of a thern only made him more attractive to me and my still longed for dream of having him at my side as we ruled while producing the next Holy Hekkador.

As I walked down the corridor I needed to remember I had a part to play in keeping us all safe but I knew that part would threaten my tenuous hold on my newfound self, the one that had been hatched in the captivity of the first-born and blossomed inside that cell. I would have to hide Demah and in so doing would I eventually lose her? Her, Dejah, and Thuvia? The two red women had become the only people I could call friends, no more than that, sisters.

The trek over the next few days was through the chambers and corridors beneath the domain of the thern, these chambers were below even those that the thern themselves used and I assumed this was part of the network that Issus's spies used to deliver her messages written in blood, the light was dim and the way was winding and convoluted but eventually we emerged on the other side of the Otz Mountains into the realm of the Valley of Lost Souls. The daylight was blinding and my father signaled a short rest while we adjusted to the new environment, he also sent out one of the long-drawn-out cries used to summon the beasts to their feast and I wondered what he was about.

I sat down near the captives, for I dared not even think of them as my friends at the moment and watched as Thuvia's face took on a detached and vacuous stare into the distance as the call echoed. That sound could not be pleasant for her, I suspected it triggered many memories she would just as soon forget. I heard it now as she must and I felt a twinge of sympathy, as I became aware of it, I hardened my heart but not before Dejah Thoris saw the flicker of compassion.

Thinking I needed to be both Phaidor and Demah, "I doubt we need fear the apes and plant men on this side of the Golden Cliffs. But I also doubt that cry bodes any good for the welfare of the wife of the heretic and destroyer of the faith in the true religion of Barsoom. So, you shall receive your just rewards for your association with that vile man."

The Holy Thern in the party only nodded in agreement with that statement and one of them said, "That is the prearranged signal to call a company of lesser thern warriors to our location, we must make it safely to our new home. There are perils along the way that only the four of us fighting men would be hard-pressed to guarantee the safety of the Hekkador or his daughter, the future mother of the next Holy Hekkador."

As he spoke a look of speculation and avariciousness entered his eyes. This was not missed by both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris.

"And you?" said Dejah Thoris, "You seem to have more than the safety of the Hekkador in mind?"

A superior and haughty look appeared on the man's face, "Do not speak to me, creature. My goals are much beyond what you as a lesser being of the outside world could fathom."

Here he made to strike the princess, but Thurid had been nearby and grabbed his wrist as he made ready to unleash his blow.

"Sekor Xor, you forget yourself. Dejah Thoris is not your concern, nor is she yours to discipline. The Holy Hekkador has decreed that she is his to do with as he pleases, not you. I wouldn't interfere with his plans."

I thought I saw a hint of anger at my father as Thurid spoke and I wondered if he were more interested in dealing with Dejah Thoris himself than letting my father have her.

In about a quarter zode the expected company of warriors approached. We made ready to resume our march. Now I was surrounded by my own kind and yet I was feeling more and more alone. I watched both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris being lead along on their leashes and I again felt shame and – fear?

As we journeyed along the edge of the land of the lost souls, we were often spied by the locals but the yellow of the wigs and the size of the party kept them at bay. Sometimes we had to venture into the valley and the hatred sometimes overcame the fear.

I was kept with Dejah Thoris and Thuvia at the center of the formation along with my father as we traveled through these dangerous lands, and when we were attacked, we were encircled by the company.

During these infrequent skirmishes, I noticed that Thurid usually selected the weakest opponents and used his great size and strength to crush them. I think it must have given him some sort of rush to see them fall under his heavy sword. I also came to believe that he was hoping that these barbarians would somehow reach my father as he stood near us in the center of the formation.

Only a few thern warriors were lost to these interruptions of our trek along the front of the mountain range. Since the locals were poorly armed, not one of them holding a proper sword and there was not a firearm among them.

They had no civilization, no manufacturing. Only what they escaped with and that usually meant they had nothing. What they did have were brains and fertile lands containing beasts that were rare or extinct in the rest of Barsoom and so they were mostly armed with large bone clubs and armored with pelts and hides.

Our destination I had learned was a garrison that kept watch over the warring tribes that had formed in the valleys and dales of the land of lost men. There were plenty of lost women too and they were a prolific lot. The land was rich and fertile and so too were the inhabitants, they just didn't realize the power they could wield had they united. I even spied a few white skins mixed in with some of the tribes, these usually were kept to the back both men and women. The men were bald having discarded their wigs. The thern were dirty and obviously not looked upon as gods. Only when hard-pressed did they join the fight and it became clear that they were of the lowest cast of thern and might even be the reason many here had escaped our service.

I wondered then if these self-exiled thern were now the slaves of the former slaves or if there were other arrangements. I think I saw a hint of the relationship when one of the red women warriors that confronted our party during our journey was struck down by a wicked blow to her leg, the sword penetrating to the bone. The sudden rush and assault of the low caste thern caught the attacker by surprise as he was about to finish the barbarian, the thern threw the only throwing weapon I had seen in many a year, a short javelin made of a dagger bound to a short shaft. That made it a weapon most swordsmen were unused to. The javelin was uncommon, pistols and rifles having taken the place of such items eons ago. The javelin caught the holy thern in the throat. The low caste thern reached the side of the woman and first dragging her out of the fray, quickly bound her leg using ointments and salves he had hanging off the belt of his harness in little jars. Then he bound her wound and as gently as I had seen any thern behave picked her up and carried her to the rear of the small army facing us.

The fight had mostly gone against the barbarians and they were dragging their dead and wounded back and disengaging. Thurid and my father were only too happy to see them retreat and ordered our guards not to pursue them.

It took days of arduous travel along steep and winding paths along the cliff face or out across the plains of the valley but we eventually reached and turned up a narrow ravine the floor of which climbed the flank of the mountains, eventually, we were all climbing, the chains had been removed from the captives and we were tied together at the waist with rope least one of us stumble and fall. The three of us were a climbing team and I knew it was thought we would not run the risk of having a heavier man fall and drag us down, that the three of us could manage if one of us fell and the other two would have the strength to prevent a slide down the precipitous trail.

The place would be impossible to see from the air and the trail up to it look like any other runoff ravine along the face of the mountains. Here was the last stronghold of my father, the Hekkador of the ancient faith. He had once commanded the whole valley on the other side of this mountain, now he had this hole in the wall. I felt a mixture of shame on shame. Shame that my father, and so I, had fallen so low in the world and that the reasons for that fall were justified. I looked at my rope companions as we finally stood fully upright at the gates of the fortress, I felt the skin of my friends as we stood shoulder to shoulder, and again I felt their thoughts and their support. The contact was brief and we were soon parted by the fresh company of guards at the gate.

I was escorted to my chambers, such as they were, and there found myself surrounded by a guard. None of these guards were from my old temple company. That company had totally perished in my defense just over a year ago. I had noticed on the journey here that none of the company had been women, again I found no women in my guard. I wondered at that and speculated that this might be more the influence of Thurid.

I was tired and I was dirty, and there was a large bath drawn but I didn't want to have any of these guards act as a handmaid to untangle my hair and scrub my body to free it of the dirt of the journey.

"Tell my father I require the services of the slaves for my handmaids. Go! Now! I am impatient to get this filth off me and I will not have any of you as servants."

My father himself arrived with a couple of slaves I didn't recognize. "Here are two that should do for servants while we are here."

I looked them over and nodded acceptance.

"Are these the only servants here?"

"No, but the rest are busy serving their masters, these are from my temple and I think you will find them well trained."

My stomach turned at the phrase, but I kept my face impassive.

"Very well, I would have had Dejah Thoris and Thuvia serve me to better solidify our rightful positions in the world, our captivity bought about necessary comprises and I would like to right that wrong and put them in their place as slaves once more."

"Don't worry, they will be made to serve. I am taking them both into my service."

Again my stomach lurched towards my throat but again I kept my distress hidden.

"Very well, if these are all you can spare, I guess they will have to do. When can I expect better?"

"We are in the process of negotiating with those cities and nations still loyal to the ancient religion, we will be traveling once we have decided on a course away from here. Unfortunately, we only have a few fliers and only one large enough to carry the party we expect to take with us. We will be traveling light when we do go. So, get used to it, this may be the closest you have to luxury for a while."


	40. News of the World

## The Secret Tower

### News of the World

My father, Thurid, our guard contingent, my sisters, and I arrived at the remote and hidden tower tucked in the rocks and crags of the mountainside.

As I settled into my new quarters, such as they were, I was assigned two new slaves to take care of me. These were from my father's own household. I knew they were most likely spies for him.

Given my suspicions, I did not take them into my confidence in any way. And they being red women, I didn't allow them to touch me if I could help it. When they did, I tried to be thinking of vacuous innocent thoughts. Mostly how cold I was or how hot I was or how hungry I was, anything to give them the impression I was as self-centered and unthinking as I had appeared to be during my earliest years.

But, even so, I would make comments about how things used to be. Making it sound as if I thought it should still be that way, unaccepting that things could have changed.

These slaves put me right, and in doing so, told me much of what had happened while my sisters and I had been trapped in our own little world. The slaves, being in my father's household, knew much, just as we handmaids had known much in the court of Issus.

They told me stories and analyses they had heard while serving my father. I put together much of what they didn't say, and I made some assumptions and leaps of logic but what I put together was that in this hidden tower, those that remained loyal to my father held out.

They held to the only way of life they knew. Here the remains of the ancient religion that provide my father his power were now headquartered. His power was greatly reduced. Only about a third of the thern population continued to honor him and his position.

For now, that third was keeping quiet.

Most of them were fleeing the homeland to hide in plain sight in the loyal cities. Easy to do with a different dark wig or hair dye. That and some red-tinted cosmetics produced a being indistinguishable from a native inhabitant of any red city on the planet. Men and women were migrating, and some assumed the identities of joined couples in the ways of the red nations to be able to more easily pass.

A few remained behind, visibly espousing the views of and falsely swearing allegiance to the new order. These were the spies inside their own homeland, and my father hoped in time they would be the nucleus around which his rule would return to the valley.

The more important were here with my father. What remained of the Thern of the Tenth Cycle and the leaders of the priesthood along with the spymasters were here close to their leader, my father.

What I noticed about the Thern of the Tenth Cycle was that there were not many familiar faces. Only a few of those I had known remained, and they were only the most junior attainers of the cycle. The rest were unknown to me. For there to be so many new to the tenth cycle there must have been a great need to fill the ranks during the time I was absent from the court of my father.

Not surprisingly, the great majority of the priests and spies scattered about the planet were still in father's camp. They, having the choice of the riches sacrificed to Issus for their personal use over the millennia, were reluctant to give that up.

Those places where the city, nation, or empire turned away from the religion the priests, in the guise of red merchants, panthans, or travelers they would relocate to a loyal city. This was made easier as even in those places that had rejected their religion, there were those that clung to it and were leaving to find a city that still believed.

It was an odd time, I understand. While my sisters and I had been trapped in a revolving world all our own, the world outside had spun about a shifting axis of belief. No place was untouched. A planet constantly at war found a time when they readily accepted the movement of those who could not stay and an influx of those who now held beliefs closest to the majority of their new city. So strong is the power of belief that it severed age-old ties of fealty to royal houses, clans, and family.

This is not to say that religion motivated every person, some held on to their beliefs but held their duty to family and house higher, and so they remained and continued to practice their religion as they always had, ignoring those who ridiculed them for their blindness. Every city maintained at least one priest to serve, or take advantage of, these who remained loyal. Most cities didn't outright destroy the temples, but the number of temples was reduced as disuse claimed many.

The spies remained where they were. Some were so well embedded in the lands that they almost viewed themselves as loyal to two masters. I wondered if the reports coming out of those spies were to be trusted. Had they become too much a member of the people they had been sent to spy on?

The reduced apparatus needed to control those remaining cities and spies loyal to the old religion was controlled from this place hidden in the cliffs of the Otz Mountains. For now.

My father was close to settling arrangements with the Okar. A race most on Barsoom now knew nothing of, not even of their existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we arrive at a transition that I am struggling with a bit. Things will be slow to arrive for a while.


	41. Names and a Start

### Names and a Start

As I suspected, one or the other of my slaves disappeared for long periods. Usually returning with a concerned look on their face. What they were reporting and to whom they were reporting was a mystery. The most likely was my father, but Thurid was also a possibility, as was Sekor Xor or one of the other Tenth Cycle Holy Therns.

After a day confined to my rooms, I became both bored and concerned with the fate of my friends. I decided to get out, to see how far my own freedom extended, to see what was where and that how that might help me find a way to save my princesses from harm.

Maybe I could find an old disused chamber or a secret passage or saferoom. Of course, the chance I could find anything without raising suspicion was extremely thin, probably nonexistent. But it was what came to me then, and it would keep me busy and my mind occupied with something other than all too vivid visions of what could be happening to princesses.

I needed to know where the food stores were, where arms were, where water and other drink might be kept. All these would be needed to successfully hide two women from a citadel full of warriors, court functionaries, and slaves. And if I was successful, which was doubtful, then what was the next step?

I started wandering the citadel. This first day mostly to get a lay of the fortifications and an idea of the size of the holding. It was massive. Much bigger than I had at first thought. The cave in the side of the mountain was huge and ran back into the cliffside for several hundred meters and several hundred meters in height at the highest points. The buildings built on this shelf were of various shapes and sizes. I assumed they had been built over the eons, but the massive wall across the entrance to the place appeared to be the oldest structure. One tower almost touched the vaulted roof far above looked odd and out of place. As I watched, a small flier departed from the hanger that must occupy the roof. As soon as it cleared the overhang of the cave, it raced off on some unknown errand.

As I made my way around the compound, I was accompanied by four of the lower thern who provided the guards for the holy family. In later excursions over the next two days, this number sometimes jumped to six.

I was never challenged, but guards and at least one of my slaves were always with me. That the number of guards was so many was a mystery to me until toward the end of the third day, one of the guards approached me in private. Having slipped in from his post at my private bed-chamber door, only one of my slaves with me.

I looked up at him with a question on my face. He, keeping his eyes on the slave by my side, bowed low.

"I have news for the daughter of Matai Shang, Holy Hekkador, Master of Life and Death."

I wondered at the look he had given my slave. Since I knew her to be a spy, I assumed he knew that too.

"Speak, what message have you, and from whom does it come?"

Again, he looked at the slave. "I have come to inform you the guard commander has suspicions that your guard is being infiltrated by men loyal to Thurid. I also suspect others are influencing the number of and who serves in your guard."

I raised my eyes to look directly into his.

Dropping pretense, I turn to the slave, "And has the Holy Hekkador heard this too?"

Surprised and shocked, the slave looked at me. It took a while, but a small nod in the affirmative followed.

"Are you Thurid's spy or my father's?"

Again, the surprise along with a look of concern flashed across her face. I could see the wheels turning. And I could see the danger I was putting this woman in.

"I will not betray you to my father for any word you say to me here, in this room. I will not presume to ask of you the same."

"I am your father's spy. Thurid has approached me, but I have always told him my loyalty is the holy house. I cannot say what arrangements outside that with your father that your other slave may have made."

I looked closely at the woman, then I reached out suddenly, with the intent of getting as much information while revealing as little myself. I grabbed her wrist and almost mentally shouted, _IS THIS TRUE?_

Her started thoughts revealed the truth, and much more. She had not lied, she was loyal to my father, but I learned surprisingly she was more loyal to me. She had shaded her reports to my father as much as she dared know that the other slave would be reporting too.

It was only through surprise that I had been successful in my ploy. Most could mask their thoughts with ease. It was only the unexpected action and the assumed lack of knowledge on the part of the thern that had allowed as much information as I had received to be possible.

I quickly released her wrist.

"Did you do what I just think you did?" she asked, forgetting our relative ranks and position. Her doubt and upset overriding her training and good sense.

"I did. Now, if you will go and place your hand on the shoulder of the guard, please tell me what you can of his sincerity and the truthfulness of his statements."

Doing as I asked, the slave moved to stand before the guard. Who stood looking confused and slightly afraid.

"You will allow the slave to touch you, you will not move, you will not talk."

He nodded.

She reached up and placed her hand on top of his shoulder near his neck, where it was exposed by his harness and armor.

The look on his face at the touch was surprising. First, he was startled, so startled he forgot my instructions.

"Can all the red race do this?"

The woman standing before him nodded. I knew the nod was confirmed through her touch.

"He is telling the truth in his suspicions, but it is he and not the guard commander who is concerned. He is loyal to you, and only you. He has, what some might call, an infatuation for you. It is well under control, but he would do anything for you if you asked."

I sat, thinking.

The slave-maintained contact with the warrior as I had not released them from my instructions. How long they stood there, I do not really know, but it was not a short time.

When next I looked at them, I noticed an odd look on the warrior's face, and I could swear the color of the slave had deepened a shade or two.

As I watched, a confused look spread across the warrior's face. A look of mixed repulsion and attraction?

"You can return to my side slave."

I felt a twinge of guilt at the world slave used as a name.

"What is your name? Your name and home city?"

"I am Darria of Duhor."

"Darria, I will not ask you to betray the commission my father has placed on you. You may report to him as you need to. Do not hold anything back. Except perhaps this meeting and the fact that the red race is much more advanced than he suspects. So advanced I venture to say that if there is a lesser race, it is the thern."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the confused look on the guard's face become more so.

"Guard, I see you are perplexed by my statement. I only state what I have seen. Now, what are your name and rank?"

"I am Than Ghan. I am only a warrior."

"Not only, you are a warrior in the guard of the only daughter, no, the only woman, of the holy house of the thern. In my guard, you are **my** eyes and **my** ears. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your holiness."

"Now return to your post," as he turned, I had a thought, "no! Wait. Stand there a moment."

I turn to the pile of baggage that had been already in my bed chamber when I arrived, I did not know why it was here, whose it was, or what purpose if any it served. As I rummaged through the contents, I was surprised to see that it contained many items from my own temple, including a large selection of my favorite silks, the silks that reminded me of my mother, the mother whose eyes matched mine and matched the variegated colors of blues and greens mixed in random patterns across the face of the cloth.

Surprised but pleased, I took one of these and cut a long strip. I handed it to the guard, "Take this, work it into your harness or weapons as a sign that you are mine. If you see any other wearing this same color and pattern, depend on them as a friend of mine. Now return to your post."

After he left, I turned to Darria. "Now, what else did you find out about our young warrior?"

The deepening blush told me what I was curious about.

" How mutual is this attraction?"

"I do find him attractive; I think I would find him more so if he didn't wear that yellow wig."

"I will not embarrass you further. I will ask, if you can, to bring me word on the condition and treatment of two women with us when we arrived. I would appreciate it."

"I can tell you that they are confined when not being made to perform the duties of a typical house slave. Usually with an audience. The Holy Hekkador keeps them in a room near him and far away from the pirate."

"Thank you, can you tell me when they are scheduled next to be put on 'display'?"

"I heard one of the kitchen staff reporting the most odious job available was cleaning out a sewer pipe that had completely clogged recently in the main kitchen. I assume it will be there that one of them will be forced to demean themselves soon."

"Thank you, now treat me as usual when your fellow slave arrives. Oh, and here, be your own best judge how you use this, but don't be too obvious."

I handed her a smaller square of the same silk I had handed the guard. This she hid in one of the pouches hanging from her harness.


	42. Sister Sighting

###  Sister Sighting

When next I found myself alone with Darria, I was determined to discover as much as I could about my sisters' treatment.

"Darria, are you able to give me a general report on my father's special slaves?"

Watching me with a curious look in her eyes, Daria responded, "I can, but first, and I know I am overstepping here, are you aware of who they are?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask how you know?"

Smiling, "I was trapped in the Temple of the Sun with them for half a year, and before that, we were together servants of the goddess Issus. I know them very well."

An almost relieved look came over Darria. 

"I have not been able to actually talk to either the Princess of Ptarth, or the Princess of Helium, but the gossip and accepted knowledge are that they are both being held, hostage. It is rumored that they both have a connection to the heretic John Carter, and that is the reason for the petty demeaning tasks assigned them."

"They have put been on display from time to time, and Dejah Thoris specifically has been made to do some of the more noisome tasks in the Hekkador's household. She is always performing those tasks in the presence of the guards and a crowd of Holy Thern to witnesses her degradation. Along with one calling out her sins and the punishment for those sins. It is rumored she will be cleaning that sewer line I told you of last time on the morrow."

Satisfied that this was all the information I was going to get today. I set about filling my time with exercise and increasing my knowledge of the place. 

I decided to take a stroll as had been my custom for the last few days. As always, I was escorted, this time by six guards and my two slaves. Than Ghan was not among them today. I missed having at least one known loyal guardsman.

The next morning, keeping an eye and an ear out for any commotion that might proceed an excursion of either Thuvia or Dejah Thoris. I managed to be present at the unclogging of the drain.

I was accompanied by my guard, this time including Than Ghan, and my servants as well as the others who usually went everywhere I did. How many reports were being generated and to whom those reports would be delivered was beyond me at the moment. I knew my father must be one, and Thurid and Sekor Xor were likely.

When I arrived, I found Dejah Thoris already covered in slime. Asking the nearest person as I entered, they informed me that she had just returned from uncapping the exterior cleanout access and been drenched by trapped water there.

Her duties here were much as they had been when she had served Issus in her moments of petty spite, but here there was less chance of being killed for the wrong word or wrong facial expression. 

The smell emanating from the slime and from the open pipe of the fouled sewer drain in the kitchen was almost overwhelming. 

Noticing my arrival, my father looked over at me. He nodded his approval of the addition of my guards and slaves to those who were to witness this as part of her humiliation. Then he seemed to leave going about his business.

I wanted to keep an eye on Dejah Thoris, I do not know what I could do if something serious were to happen, I had one loyal guard and one loyal slave. But I do know I would not stand idly by if it looked like she was about to meet her fate.

The princess was without harness or silks, her bare skin was covered with clotted grease and the remains of decaying vegetation, her hair was a matted mess. All the while, a Holy Thern appointed by my father was disclaiming the justness of her punishment and the future demise of her husband at the hands of the holy religion as examples of what should happen to those who blasphemed.

As I watched, thinking that this punishment was nothing compared to those inflicted by the false goddess Issus, a smile played about my lips. I had been covered in worse excrement during times serving the false goddess, as had Dejah Thoris. There had been times when we had passed out due to the unhealthy air or overcome by noxious fumes. We were never scarred or defaced in any way as that would detract from our prime duty as a setting for the eternal radiance of the goddess. But we were humiliated in almost every conceivable way.

My amused smile was noticed by Thurid. When had Thurid arrived?

"You enjoy seeing her humiliated?" he asked as he watched the smile play about my lips. His intense gaze was almost a physical sensation and not a pleasant one.

Getting back into my old character with by now practiced ease, "Yes much!"

"This is only the latest petty task. When we are rid of her husband, we shall in earnest bring her and her nation to its knees and use it as an example of what happens to those who oppose the ancient religion." My father's voice startled me as he had approached unseen and unheard behind us.

I turned to face him and noticed for the first time that we were almost eye to eye. This was the closest I had been to him since before my capture. He had, for his unknown reasons, kept some distance from me during my release from the temple of the sun and our travels after.

I had thought him a tall man, but standing next to the giant Thurid and surrounded by the elite Holy Therns that acted as his personal guard, he seemed to have shrunk. That or I had grown as tall as my father during my time in captivity. 

I knew I had filled out and added to my height while the cylinder Temple of the Sun revolved. I had only recently entered that penultimate stage in life where I would appear the same, barring accident or illness, for almost a thousand years. 

I turned to look at Dejah Thoris struggling with a troublesome clot as she strove to push the flexible tool down the pipe to push the clog out of the other end that she had unfastened earlier for the purpose. I wondered how old that pipe was and how long this hidden stronghold had been here waiting for this contingency. Maybe it had originally been built as a watch on those poor deluded travelers and the few escaped slaves that populated the valley of lost souls. But maybe it was far older and was part of the fortifications of our ancestors as the oceans dried, and the world burned.

"She and Thuvia will be coming with us when we decamp. We are only waiting on one thing before we begin our journey, and he is getting close."

I watched as a knowing look passed between my father and Thurid. I was confused as to who we were waiting on, maybe an ambassador from our destination nation.

"Phaidor, my daughter, you should make ready to travel we will be leaving in about five or six days."

"How many servants can I bring?"

"None. Our flier will carry only the needed people to set up our operations in our temporary home. There will be no room for servants."

Feeling a little disappointed at not being able to bring along Darria but seeing an opening to bring my friends closer to me. "Then I demand that Dejah Thoris and Thuvia if they are coming anyway, be my servants. I cannot possibly travel as your daughter without some of my own."

"They will appear as your servants when we are in public as we travel, but they are still our hostages, and they may be the keys to our future power on Barsoom."

It was then I knew with certainty one of the roles that one or both of my friends would play. Thuvia had no husband. So that was not a problem. She could be wed in the manner of the red men. Her father's kingdom would come under the rule of her husband, provided her potential sisters or cousins had not been declared senior after she took the final trip down the River Iss. I knew her mother was dead; I did not know if there were aunts or cousins.

I could see one problem in their plan, one of their own making. She was subject to the ancient punishment for anyone who returned from the Valley Dor. But as my father now controlled the messaging emanating from the temples of the Thern. He could easily provide an exception to that rule for her.

As for Dejah Thoris, she did have a husband, a famous husband, well known the world over as the savior of the planet. And now, to many, the one who had sparked the discovery of the falseness of the ancient religion that had been foisted upon them eons ago. 

I knew both my father and Thurid were thinking that he needed to be taken care of first. But to succeed in their plans, he could not fall to the blade of the man who would eventually marry her. If someone else or something else killed John Carter, then either my father or Thurid would be free to marry her and through her, take Helium. 

This would be easy as there were no women left of the royal house, nor were there even any war leaders left of that house to oppose him. Well, except John Carter and his son Carthoris, the princes of Helium were the problem. First, take care of John Carter, then take care of his son.


	43. Unwanted Attention

### Unwanted Attention

I came to demand later that day that the guards stay out of all my chambers. I was not in danger from my two servants. And if everyone were doing their job, they could guard me just as well outside my door as they could inside. I was hoping to reduce the number of spies. I had plans, and one of those involved private conversations with my loyal servants.

A compromise was reached that four guards would be stationed in my antechamber. My personal quarters would be free of outside eyes.

I was undesirably aided in this request by Sekor Xor, who volunteered to be the overseer of my guard,

My father granted his permission. I think at the prompting of Sekor Xor. I watched the interplay of the three men who were debating my request. Thurid was very much against it, my father undecided, and Sekor Xor for it. They each had their reasons for their positions. Thurid wanted to maintain a close watch over me, Sekor Xor wanted free-reign for what he was planning, and my father using the two to keep each occupied with the other chose in this instance to humor Sekor Xor.

The rest of that day and well into the night, Sekor Xor used his new position to first make sure the instructions were being followed. And once he was sure of the privacy of my inner chambers, he proceeded to woo me. To entice me with promises of power and complete domination of Barsoom if only I would join forces with him, agree to mate for a year with him, produce and egg with him.

He made none of his advances in public but only when we were alone. In an effort to reduce these visits, I started stationing one or two of the anteroom guards inside my chamber. If Than Ghan was on duty, it would be him, otherwise, one of the three others he had recommended. I did not like taking the risk, but since the constant interruptions of Sekor Xor throughout the day, my original plans were being thwarted.

Sekor Xor persisted even with my slave and the one guard I had posted to keep a watch on the room. Sekor Xor still viewed this as being alone and pressed on with his efforts. Darria, Than Ghan, and my other slave, Shab-Tee, as well a few other lowest-ranking guards witnessed his almost hourly advances over the next two days. I had little rest between his visits. Where he went when he was not pestering me, I did not know.

In these entreaties, he let slip vague plans to depose the Holy Hekkador, kill Thurid, and reclaim the thern's rightful place as the gods of the world.

I almost decided to visit my father to warn him, but something stayed my tongue. Some hidden instinct or subconscious stratagem holding me silent. I would wait to see what that was.

It did not take long. The lesser therns in my guard had shown kind deference to me. From the looks on their faces as Sekor Xor made his advances, they were unamused, and I think willing to kill him to protect me. As only one of these was present at a time, the odds of quickly overcoming the cunning Sekor Xor were too small to contemplate.

Kuriod, a lesser thern and the lowest ranking member of my guard, approached me in my antechamber when Sekor Xor was absent. He looked around to see who was on guard. Seeing only four of the lowest, he seemed satisfied. I smiled as one of them was my Than Ghan.

"Holy daughter of the faith, I have news that you should know. But I fear I may offend you in even approaching you. I would not if I did not think your life might depend on this information."

I studied the young man; he could not be much older than me. His face was curiously guileless for a thern. Glancing at Than Ghan and getting a nod from him, I nodded my head that he should proceed. I noticed Than Ghan moving to block the door if needed. Darria seeing the move stiffened but then relaxed and almost seemed to go into a meditative state.

"I have it from the servants in your father's household that Sekor Xor has been sowing a web of lies in your father's court. A web I fear you almost found yourself trapped in today. He has convinced your father, or so at least it appears to the servants, that he claims your first move in any plans to depose him and install your choice in his place is to discredit Sekor Xor. To drive a wedge between the Holy Hekkador and his most trusted servant.

"Sekor Xor has left what you might be accusing him of vague. But, if you accuse him of seduction and through that seduction his plan to replace the Holy Father, you will be confirming the lies he tells of you. You will fall into his trap simply by stating the truth.

"He has, he thinks, you in a no-win situation. Either succumb to his advances or fall into his trap and weaken your influence on the holy father. Make no mistake, he does plan to assassinate your father and claim you for his as he has let slip more than once when I was your inner-rooms guard.

"I am among the lowest of the low in the guard. As such, many assume I am too stupid to understand their conversations. That is if they even notice me at all. The fragments of conversation between Sekor Xor and his lieutenants are all I have heard but, that has been enough to put together their plans in broad outlines if not detail.

"Be careful, if you are planning to accuse Sekor Xor of trying to seduce you and take over as Holy Hekkador once Matai Shang is eliminated, you must do so in such a way that the accusation is irrefutable.

"Sekor Xor has planted the seeds that it is you who hopes to cause disruption and rebellion and that you want Dejah Thoris and Thuvia dead so that you can marry John Carter, make him the Holy Hekkador and rule the world with him at your side. "

I felt a jolt at the truth of that last statement. Yes, that desire was still there, buried, but always present. It pestered me in the still of the night. It ran rampant in my dreams, John Carter by my side, protecting me, keeping me safe from this world. And we, controlling the fate of the planet, reducing war, reducing murder, we would be good rulers. Or so the dreams went. The war between that vision and my love of my sisters was always there somewhere in my being. It was a war I did not intend to lose, but the question was, who was I? The sister, or the conqueror?

"Sekor Xor has appeared to convince your father that your time in the tower has made you unstable. That you and your words cannot be trusted."

My heart rate steadied, and the I that was, the sister looked out.

I looked into the eyes of the man and saw the truth. I had more practice at reading tiny things like posture, motion, movement of hands, and muscles in the face. I trusted my own instincts in this. But there were three other unknowns in the room. What would they report? In this, I had a secret, a secret I now intended to use.

Luckily, or by design, Kuriod had timed his information when my least trusted slave was away as she often was. I assumed reporting to my father. Thinking this, I wondered if my father was as in the dark as I and others thought.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Now, what have you four to say? Can you confirm any of what has been said?"

Than Ghan shrugged and looked at Darria with a curiously intimate stare.

"He has heard some rumors that only now with this statement of Kuriod's make sense," she whispered in my ear conveying the thoughts of Than Ghan.

When had that happened? How could Than Ghan project his thoughts? In whispering in my ear, Darria had put her head near mine, she must have caught that thought for she answered, "He cannot, I just can read him much better, when he looks at me like that, it is a signal to probe his thoughts. I do have something we need to talk about now in private."

Feeling a need to control the situation.

"Than Ghan, throw the bolt to bar the door, do not let any enter or leave. The rest of you stay where you are."

Turning, I proceed to my inner chambers with Darria following. Once out of earshot, I turn to look her in the eye. She is half a head shorter than me, so she had to tilt her head up to look at me.

"There is one in there who felt a sudden and urgent need to leave and report as soon as possible to Sekor Xor. I do not know who, and if the thought had not been so overwhelming in the man's mind, I would not have picked it up."

I looked at Darria, wondering how far to trust her. Making up my mind, I went to a locked bag that had been in the luggage left in my room before I arrived. Using a key that I had found in a collection of jewels and other trinkets, I took from the bag two daggers, one was Thurid's. I had picked it up where Thuvia had dropped it that day in the Temple of the Sun. That dagger had been added to my harness as I had fetched the six jetan pieces that now rested in the pouch that held my treasures. I had hidden it and others in this bag soon after discovering the key.

Turning, I tucked Thurid's dagger in my harness, hidden from sight but ready to hand. I handed the other dagger I had pulled from the bag to Darria. The smile on her face as I did this was. . . blinding.

"You will not regret trusting me. You think you hid your own thoughts and intentions during that contact, but enough came through. I know you, I trust you, I pledge myself to you."

At the unexpected declaration, the sensation of sudden tears threatening to run down my face shocked me. I looked away, embarrassed.

"You know I am not a good or kind person. It is a constant battle to maintain my balance. To keep the selfish and the mean and the uncaring at bey."

"I know."

I flashed back to the time she asked me if I knew who the two captives that had arrived with me were. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to see how much I trusted her then.

I nodded at her. "We are going to find our spy, and we are going to confirm the loyalty of the other two. You will first walk to Than Ghan, tell him to be ready, to draw his sword. Then return to me. We will interview each guard, you will be standing behind each as I question him, you will place your hand on each guard, try not to reveal everything a red can do like happened with Than Ghan."

Darria nodded her understanding.

We returned to the antechamber, Darria walked to Than Ghan, who bent forward to bring his ear near her lips, but he continued to watch the room with a steady eye. He nodded as she left his side, he drew his sword.

"Kuriod, please take the post of each guard as I call them before me."

He bowed his understanding.

Turning to the guard on my right nearest me, "You, draw your sword and place it on the ground, then stand before me at a distance of your height plus a half away from me."

The guard did as he was bid. Darria walked around and stood behind him. She placed her and on the back of his neck, positioning it as if finding his pulse. A pulse she would visibly use as an indicator of truth. She stood slightly to the side. I could see her face and half her body. Her hand, not busy providing a link to the man's mind, hovered near where I had seen her hide her dagger.

"Are you loyal to me and only me?"

"No, I server your father as well as well as you."

"If you had to pick a side, whose would it be?"

Here he stopped to think. I watched Darria's face as a smile slowly crooked her face.

"I believe it is you," he answered. Darria nodded yes.

"Will you keep what happens here to yourself as it pertains to the safety and me and my father."

"Yes."

"You may return to your post." This one would not be given a strip of blue-green silk, but he was no threat at the moment.

Turning to the guard nearest me on the left, I motioned him to take his place. Kuriod moved to take his vacated spot.

The process repeated with much the same result. Again no blue-green silk.

That left one.

He hesitated.

Unwillingly, he placed his sword on the ground and advanced to take his place, Kuriod again moving to fill the void left.

He took his position. Darria placed her hand on his neck, finding his pulse. An unneeded process but one that she hoped hid the truth. The shock and alarm that appeared immediately warned me in time. I was already moving when the man drew his dagger and leapt for my throat. I had started drawing my own dagger to meet him and avoiding his blow with a sidestep. I admit the move was patterned after the move I had seen John Carter pull on the deck of that fateful flier over a year ago. He was just that quick. I had the advantage of Darria's warning look. The guard rushed past me due to momentum. When he turned to attack once again, he faced not one but two daggers. The remaining guards were moving, but they seemed to be caught unaware except for Than Ghan, who was rushing forward.

Darria was not waiting, she moved to the warrior's weak side, and with a quickness only marginally slower than that shown by John Carter or Carthoris, she buried her dagger deep in his side. The man had made the mistake of believing the thern before him was the deadlier opponent and had kept most of his attention on me.

He was not done yet, but he would be soon. Falling, as he turned, he took a last swipe at Darria, who almost managed to dodge the expected return blow. The blade caught her at the collar bone and left a furrow of blood as it skidded off the bone.

Than Ghan was there to finish the job with a sword through the man's throat, then he dropped and immediately started tending the wound on Darria's chest.

"That was my job, Darria!" the panic in his voice plain.

She smiled, "You were being too slow; I couldn't chance him getting to her before you or any of the others arrived."

The stern looks of the guards standing over Than Ghan and Darria were almost comical to me, "My slave, like others before her, has saved my life. It is not in my power to free her, but you here will treat her with respect."

They all looked at me, and one by one bowed assent.

"Than Ghan, take her to my bed-chamber, lay her on my bed, and keep her quiet until the salve takes hold."

He looked up, dropped his head in a modified bow, and picked up the red woman to do as I instructed. Darria stopped him with a look.

"First, you will retrieve my blade and your sword. You will clean them of all blood using the silks of that spy and assassin. I am in no danger."

He looked to me. I nodded assent. Then I turned my attention to the others.

"The rest of you, this was an assassin, I assume from Thurid or one of those plotting against me or my father."

They all nodded, they understood the story I wanted to be told. And it was close enough to the truth that they all readily believed it possible.

By this time having sheathed his own sword and handing the dagger to Darria, who held it close. Than Ghan picked her up and carried her to my room.

"Kuriod, please attend Than Ghan, see if he needs anything."

Taking his leave, he left to do as I wanted.

"Now, the rest of you unbar the door and inform the guards on duty of what has happened. Get this body out of here and send for someone to clean up this blood. Keep my slave out of your reports. It was Than Ghan and me that killed the man. My carpet here is ruined!" I was a bit surprised at the petulance in my voice, but really it had been a favorite design. One of the few things in this room I had actually liked.


	44. One More

### One More

I entered the bed-chamber and saw Darria comfortably situated with pillows propping her up to talk to Than Ghan. Kuriod stood awkwardly nearby. At a signal from Darria, he drew near where she reached out and took his wrist.

"Thank you. You have done a great service to my princess."

The man looked confused and a little taken aback. He was not used to a slave thanking him. Nor, I think, to the obvious affection that existed between Darria and Than Ghan.

Letting go with a knowing smile Darria looked at me and bowed her head as well as she could from her reclined position.

As I approached, Than Ghan came to attention and backed away from my servant. I would not ever call her a slave in my mind again. I would not think of her as a slave. To me, she was a friend. A willing helper in my effort, as she had known for a while, of freeing the princesses and making sure they returned to a safe place.

I sat on the bed and placed my own hand on her non-injured shoulder. _Kuriod is yours, body, and soul_ _._ The thought came to me at the touch.

Continuing as if nothing had passed between us, "Please do not take such risks. Than Ghan was near, we would have kept him at bey until he arrived."

"I couldn't take the chance with your life. I'm sorry if that displeases you."

I smiled, "Your devotion could never displease. Thank you for protecting me."

I stood and went to my collection of silks from my own temple. Here I cut another strip from the same silk I had cut a strip and square from for Darria and Than Ghan. I also picked up another variegated silk, one that closest matched the color of my yellow jetan pieces and the blue color of Helium.

Returning to Kuriod, who stood stiffly and awkwardly in my presence, I handed him the blue-green strip, "Thank you for your service. As a token of my trust in you, please take this strip of silk and work it into your harness or weapons where it is inconspicuous but visible. As you see, Than Ghan has wound his about his sword hilt."

"Take is silk, "here I handed him the yellow-blue, "I would like you to consult with Than Ghan and determining those you both trust to be loyal to me, distribute strips of this silk among them asking them to wear it as part of their gear. Have the men and women you both trust incorporate it into their harness or gear. This will allow me to identify those whose services I can trust in the coming days."

Looking at both warriors, I said. "Do you understand? I need to know who I can trust, or at least who you trust."

They looked at me, bowed deeply, then looked at one another almost as if sizing each other up. They were both the lowest of the lower therns, they were both young. And I think they both held some sort of infatuation for me. Whether this bonded them or made them rivals, I could not tell.

Than Ghan glanced at Darria and smiled. He relaxed. He held out his arm to be grasped by the other. Even I, the most self-absorbed of creatures, could see the bond forming.


	45. My Newest Servants

### My Newest Servants

As I entered the room my father was using as an audience chamber followed by my loyal guards Than Ghan and Kuriod I noticed a tension in the air.

The five men sitting at a table along the side of the room looked up or around at me as I entered, most greeted me with a frown.

"Father, I need to speak to you."

"Can it wait?"

"It can, but time is growing short, if your statement the other day was accurate, we do not have much time before we depart for an unknown land. At least, unknown to me. I do not know what to expect nor how much I will be interacting with the natives.

"If I am to be convincing in my role of the owner of the slaves who are your hostages, I will need time to reassert my authority and to put them in their place. It is true that in the time of our imprisonment within the Temple of the Sun we relaxed into almost familiarity and if they are to pose as my slaves, I need them to behave as my slaves. And the best way to do that is to make them my slaves, at least for part of the time remaining here."

My father's face remained passive, but Thurid's grew cloudy, if looks could kill I would be dead. My guards noticed the look and put their hands on the hilts of their swords, pointedly looking at the dator.

The report that Thurid had an assassin and spy inside my guard was having the desired effect. I then noticed that Thurid was seated farthest from my father. That my father did not outright accuse him of trying to kill me was a sign of his great need of the first-born, or maybe that he suspected someone else was responsible. I think Sekor Xor's efforts to ingratiate himself might now be counterproductive as he too was seated away from my father.

That my guards blamed Thurid and not Sekor Xor as he had led my father to believe would be my next move tended to put a small dent in Sekor Xor's plans.

"Oh, and from now on, I choose my own guards. Sekor Xor's services are no longer needed."

My father looked at the men at the other end of the table, a displeased expression on his face as he said, "I will send the two slaves to you for the rest of the day. They will spend every other day with you until we leave. And, as you wish, Sekor Xor is relieved of his oversight of your guards. He obviously is not particularly good at it."

I bowed with a "Thank you, father," and turned to leave. Than Ghan and Kuriod, still standing behind me, parted to let me pass.

"You know I have my own ways of keeping an eye on you. Please do not let me down," my father's voice held a note of threat. My heart skipped a beat but then steadied.

Looking over my shoulder, "I know, I will not fail you."

Leaving the room, I could almost feel the questions in the minds of my guards. But then my imagined impressions coming from them steadied into acceptance. What I imagined them accepting, I did not know.

When Dejah and Thuvia were escorted into my apartments as a result of my efforts, I took them to the bath. There I told them I needed my hair and body washed to remove the dirt and stress of the last couple of days.

The guards on duty knowingly nodded to each other as they would have been informed by my father as the purpose of my time with the slaves. They knew I had taken a bath only that morning and was putting the two red women in their place by demanding they attend to my grooming.

I only wanted to get skin contact so that we could communicate without rousing suspicions among the guards. Most of whom I was sure were spies for my father or others. There was one, low ranking and least memorable of the current team, who wore a yellow and blue strip of silk wound around the handle of his sword. It was from the silk I had given Kuriod.

He had done a nice job of it. I noticed he had found another silk of a similar shade to the blue and bound the pommel of his dagger with that.

I selected him and another lower ranking guard to stand at the door to my bath chamber and asked him to keep an eye on everything while I was retraining the slaves. At his nod, I noticed he was shifting his eyes toward the other guard and looked like he wanted to warn me that I had a spy in my midst. As the silk marked guard was standing forward of the other. There was no risk that man had noticed anything of the silent communication between us.

I turned on my heal, dismissing the therns to their post, and returned to my slaves, instructing them in my needs and the expected obedience I demanded from the lower orders.

I noticed a slight bruise on Thuvia's cheek then as I looked at them. And my eyes, which were hidden from any but the slaves before, me raised an eyebrow of question. A look of concern flew across my face.

Thuvia bowed her head as she cowered before me. "Yes, mistress."

We went about the business of removing what silks I wore here in my room, there being a chill in the air of this old keep on the side of a mountain. And I entered the warm bath, the water of which had been drawn that very morning and so the temperature was pleasing to the skin. The two slaves entered on either side of me as the large basin could have accommodated several more. There they took the scrubs and the lotions and cleansers and went to work on my hair and body.

Finally! Skin contact. Thinking as hard as I could while they were ministering to me.

_I'm so sorry about all this, but I need to tell you things. I suspect you have some information we can use too._

_Do not worry about the parts we play. I can feel the struggle in you even now, but I trust you, my sister, I have faith in you and your strength of character. Not all are as my husband with unthinking courage or absolute honor. I have my doubts, I have my worries. But you didn't scheme us here for philosophy, what have you to tell us._

All this time Thuvia and Dejah worked at lathering my body, being sure to miss no part of me. Being diligent in their ministrations as good slaves should.

_What happened to your cheek Thuvia?_

_I threatened Thurid if he touched me again. I have had enough of being used in that way. I was dead to the world, no longer a threat to my city Ptarth as one who had taken the journey down the river Iss when I was a slave to the thern. But now, I am not sure, have I once again become a pathway to the throne of Ptarth? I will not let anyone other than those I choose or through the needs of my city, I must mate. Your father agreed with my reasoning. I suspect he wants to use me for some scheme of his own, but for now, he is protecting me from Thurid, and that suits me fine._

Dejah went to work on my hair, which was now down to just below my shoulder blades on my back. Even though thern women's hair grows slowly, it had been over a year since that ceremony to fashion a new wig for my father had taken place. As Dejah massaged my scalp and worked the cleanser deep into pores, I felt my body relax. The sensations of warmth and health started at the points of contact with my friends and spread throughout my body. I so wished I could return the favor as we had done in our time of captivity.

_I am so sorry for all that my father, my race, I, have wrought in your life. Never will I be able to atone for the wrongs done to you, much less all the others who, through misguided faith, took that journey over the eons._

_You are not responsible for what has come before, but only for your own actions. Any other way lies madness._

_But how can I not bear some responsibility to those harmed by my ancestors? My whole world built on their bodies and their labor?_

_Once again, we come to that we spoke of in our time in the Temple of the Sun. We all benefited from captive labor. Yes, some of the conditions were vastly different. The red nations normally treat their captives as if they will one day become part of the nation. If they have any children, those children are free and citizens of the city or empire. Nevertheless, I hope to change that in Ptarth if I ever return there._

_But why are we here? I admit this is nice and reminds me of bath time in the Temple of the Sun. But you had a reason for getting us here._ Dejah's thoughts break-in on the topic of slavery and guilt.

Here I reviewed the interview and the worries of the guard that had approached me a few days ago. The scheme to identify those of his faction with the blue-green-teal silk of the most trusted and the yellow-blue silk of the rest woven into their harness or accouterments somewhere. I pointed out the guard on the door with the hilt of his sword wrapped in the yellow-blue silk and the warning he had given me about the other guard.

Surreptitiously Thuvia moved to where she could view the two guards. Her eyes went wide but only for a moment. She moved to hide her face from the men by moving to deal with another part of me.

_The guard without the yellow-blue silk is one of Thurid's men. He has been suborning other men away from your father. It is well he warned you of him. This gives some credence to your guard's loyalty. It does sound like there are several factions at play. Even here in this outpost of your father's domain._

_We will be on the lookout for the guards marked with your silks and let you know what we find. I hope your trust is well placed._

I had to hope it was well placed too, but I had my own secrets, and in thinking them, both princesses briefly paused their scrubbing. I had caught them by surprise.

_So, you have your own spies, both in the slaves and the guards. Well vetted and trusted through your knowledge gained in our time together. I should not be surprised, my sister._

_I hope you get to meet my friend soon, but with you here, my father may reassign her somewhere else. I hope not. She has been of immense service to me. I wish I could take her with us. I worry about what will become of her and my guards once we leave. That we are taking with us the worst of the schemers alleviates my worry a little. But with the addition of you two to our trip, you're not safe from those same schemers._

_Nor are you Demah._

_True, but we three should be able to handle them, one way or another. I am glad my father is protecting both of you from Thurid. His plans and wants are all too clear on all our parts. There are others whose plans I do not know, and I think we three are viewed a mere nuisance by them._

_But what is not unclear is the want and desire of Sekor Xor to father the next Holy Hekkador. This, I will not do._

I felt a blush flow through me at that as I knew Dejah knew I wanted John Carter for that purpose. I felt her hands falter a bit, but they resumed soon enough. Oddly, I felt her sympathy and what I could only describe as an agreement that another son of John Carter would benefit the planet. I glanced at her then in surprise, and I saw that she was not opposed.

_He will never go for it; his honor is tied to his single commitment to me. I know it is odd. It took me a while to understand this quirk of his home culture and his single-minded adherence to it. No, it is not your want of him that bothers me most, but the war inside you to return to the safe and normal life you lived before the pirates took you from my mother. Or, baring that, using my husband to build an empire to rule the planet just as an effort to keep you safe. Do you not think that may have been the motive of Issus all those ages ago? To keep herself safe?_

Echoing her thoughts from earlier, Dejah Thoris again reassures me of her trust in me. 

_It is not the parts we play that has me worried. I believe your love of us will overcome whatever else may happen. I trust you my sister I have faith in you and your strength of character. Not all are as my husband with unthinking courage or absolute honor. I have my doubts, I have my worries, and I have fears that honor is both a great good thing as far as it relates to personal integrity but have my doubts as it relates to public perceptions._

I nodded my understanding and I know she felt my fear of that part of me that wanted to control everything and everyone. I recognized Issus's own personality in that need. And Issus, even in death, was something to be feared.


	46. Waiting and Watching

### Waiting and Watching

The day we were to depart came and went. Curious, I took two of my guards chosen at random and went to find my father. I found him alone in his room, reviewing documents. Well, alone except for two slaves and six guards.

As I entered the room, the contemplative expression on his face shifted to one of annoyance, but that too soon disappeared, and the bland unfeeling face I was used to looked up at me.

Not bothering to wait on his greeting, a greeting I am sure I would have found less than welcoming, I simply stated the questions I had come to ask, “I am curious, the day you estimated would be our departure from here is past. How much longer will we be here? Is this to become our permanent home?”

Anger flashed in his eyes, but he calmly said, "No, we will leave here soon enough. The exact time is unknown as we are waiting for an event. An event we have little control of. When it happens, then avenues of advancing our cause should open. So, we wait until that event occurs before we leave.”

“In that case, this every other day business of retraining the slaves is not working very well. I find I repeat myself; I assume you wish the two of them to remain unmarked and not damaged?”

“That is very much preferred, yes.”

“They are strong-willed; I knew that in our time with Issus. They needed to be to survive that hell.”

I left unsaid that he had willingly left me in that hell hole even when he had strong evidence of the truth of the situation.

“I need more time with them. A consistent and extended time to bring them closer to playing their parts. I want them to join me in my compartments, permanently, to give me that time. You can keep sending your spies in to watch me and report on my progress.”

In offering to keep his spies, as well as the new slaves, in the hope of retaining contact with Darria, I would have to accept Shab-Tee too. Accept the chance she would see something I would rather keep hidden and report it to my father.

“Very well, my two slaves will continue their usual schedule, you can move our hostages in with you, but I will place a larger guard force near you as the three of you make a very tempting target. I will retain control of that force; you can keep your current guard on the inner chambers.”

It went without saying that he would have spies throughout that additional unit. I nodded acceptance of this stipulation. I would have to find some way to turn it to my advantage or at least nullify the increased chances my father, Thurid, or Sekor Xor would discover my true motives and plans.

Thuvia and Dejah Thoris moved into my rooms in the tower that very hour. I did not want to give either my father time to rethink his decision or for Thurid or Sekor Xor to sway him to another disposition of the hostages.

Once we were alone, truly alone without any slaves or guards to hear or see, I told them this was for show only. And only when we were in the presence of others would they need to play their part of handmaid and slave. We all knew the horrors we had passed through as handmaids to the deposed Issus. I was determined not to remind any of us of those horrors in this situation, at least not willingly. Some things were out of my hands.

I was more determined to keep my inner chambers free of guards and if I could help it, untrusted slaves. If the situation allowed it, I wanted to create the situation we had lived within the Temple of the Sun, we would serve ourselves or out of kindness and love each other. I needed the tether to Demah as Phaidor was I feared gaining ascendancy.

The topic of John Carter was still a contentious point among Dejah Thoris, Thuvia, and me. As Demah, I set aside that disagreement. I was always outnumbered anyway, Thuvia and, of course, Dejah Thoris believed he should stay with Dejah Thoris as her prince. I, on the other hand, was the only vote for myself. I think now if I had looked closely, I would have recognized that it was still Phaidor that wanted him for the power he represented. At the time, even as I strove to reinforce Demah, I was determined to find a way to have him by my side. My internal concession was that in no other way would I let harm fall on either Thuvia or Dejah Thoris.

I knew Dejah Thoris was not worried about a chance I would mother a son or daughter of John Carter’s. A son or daughter of mine would be no threat to her or her nation. No, she was worried that if I had John Carter’s talents and abilities at my command, I would take the path that led to another Issus.


	47. Plans Shared

### Plans Shared

I decided to maintain my schedule as it had been since my arrival. Part of each day was spent roaming the precincts of the citadel. Now, I just added two new 'slaves' to the party. Since my father was worried about the three of us presenting too tempting a target, I also increased the guards who accompanied us. We made quite the procession on that first day after they arrived in my household. My own guards, I kept closest to the three of us, I suspect the similarity of the colors in their silks then became conspicuous when compared to the larger company supplied by my father who maintained the perimeter.

On the first day after the princesses joined me, my three ‘slaves’ were always a step or two behind me as I made my way about the halls, courtyards, walls, and battlements.

As we crossed a courtyard to the ramp leading to the top of the outer wall, I watched the sky and upper reaches of the cavern’s roof to see if there were any fliers in the air today.

“You keep looking up,” whispered Dejah as we reached the top of the battlement walls looking out into the valley below. The whisper was so low that only Darria, Thuvia, Than Ghan, and Kuriod could hear it.

Stopping I lean against a crenelation along the wall and look out over the valley. My 'slaves' gather about me, ready to do my bidding. My inner guard surrounds them, and then the rest keep everyone else away.

“There is one place I am most curious about," I speak as if to the wind, not looking at my companions. "That tower that reaches almost to the vaulted ceiling of the cave overhang has caught my eye many times before. It is near the edge of the walls and sometimes as I occasionally look up during my walks, I would see small fliers come and go. I have even noticed once a medium-sized freighter dock to the side of the building. I just wonder if that information might be useful. As in, a way to leave this place.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris smile.

“Helium is a nation of fliers. If we were to find ourselves on one, I am sure I could pilot it to anywhere on the planet.” Dejah kept her voice low, lost to all but the breeze as we stood looking out.

"The other more perilous escape is to head down into the valley with a force large enough to protect us from the savages and from any pursuit that might come from here."

In my mind, a mind I was learning to shield from intrusion at Darria's insistence, I knew if that were the escape chosen, it was one I could not take. I would have to stay. The risk that my father would throw everything into my ‘rescue’ was too great.

I knew I was running a risk speak so freely here in the open, but we were surrounded by my most trusted, and even they would have had a problem hearing the conversation. Only Darria, Thuvia, and Dejah Thoris were close enough to hear plainly.

Turning to the inward side of the battlement, I watched the activity and the lives of those who had chosen to stay loyal to my father and the ancient religion and those who had no choice, the slaves, and the guards.

Here I did not risk speaking, I did not know if some trick of acoustics would carry my voice to those below.

"Come! Follow!" my voice is strong and demanding. I lead the way toward my father's apartments. As I enter the many rooms set aside for his use the guards looked like they were about to stop me but thought better of it as they surveyed my own retinue complete with the double tan of Hekkador’s Own guards.

It was a whim of mine that brought me to this place, now, unannounced with plans to continue the practice in the future. I wanted to display the ‘slaves’ and their behavior, and I wanted to keep an eye on him.

The princesses were behaving as perfect slaves now. They had practice in Issus’s court, and they practiced that posture and demeanor now. My mind was already moving into the thought patterns and behaviors of the selfish, self-centered, greedy girl John Carter had met just over a year ago. I was sure all near me noticed the change and were prepared for the show. My only fear was, was it for show? Or was it the real me?

When we reached his office and in his presence, my treatment of all around me was that of a cruel greedy needy thern. My contempt for the lesser races and the lesser thern was evident in every word and action. The ease with which I slipped into that character was both beneficial and terrifying.

"My daughter, I see you are becoming more yourself. Good. I feared that the captivity, confinement, and exposure to the lesser beings might have damaged you. I am glad to see that it had not been a permanent injury."

This comment as I was preparing to leave caught me off guard. I looked him in the eye, the cunning crook of my smile could not have been lost on him and bowed low.

"Yes, Father. I am returning to myself and to you. Each day restores more of my memories and training at your hands and in your court. I live to serve you, to await your pleasure, and to fulfill my duty to you and my race." As I said the words, my stomach flipped, a sickening feeling spreading from there to my heart and limbs. I started to worry that I might slip, that I might stumble on my way out. But, taking hold, I straightened and stood tall, taller than my companions, taller than some of the guards, and almost, almost taller than my father.

Marshaling my slaves and guards, I left with as much arrogance and commanding presence as I could muster.

Returning to my own set of rooms, I shed the outer guard of my father’s troops to the guard room at the entrance of my suites. I stationed my usual four guards with yellow and blue silks in the anteroom of my private chambers and taking only my slaves, Than Ghan, and Kuriod, I enter my small sitting room where I collapse onto a chase and shake. A curious cold that was not due to temperature sweeping through my bones.


	48. Plans Confuse

### Plans Confuse

As my visits to my father continued over the next few days, the effort to slip into and maintain the character each time became easier to pull off. The familiarity with the task, and the knowledge that I could do it successfully, improving my performance each time. Dejah Thoris and Thuvia remained convincing in their roles, the guards at the entrance to my father's quarters now gave me a slight bow as I entered, all thoughts of baring my way banished.

I now found myself watching him as I became less focused on myself, I could tell my father was a shadow of the man he once was.

I had, during my time in my own temple, spent just a few hours with my father, and these were scattered across the years. My exposure to him now was both revealing and saddening. The losses inflicted by John Carter and those who followed him were wearing away at his confidence and power.

This remaining fortress was all he had of the once-mighty realm of the therns here in the far south. This and the underground network set up in the thern nation. That network of spies reported little hope for a restoration of the old ways anytime in the foreseeable future.

A few cities scattered across the planet would welcome him as the Holy Hekkador, the head of their religion. I had started wondering if he would be better off installing himself in one of these cities than remain here. And to that end, I started subtly commenting that we would be more comfortable in one of the faithful cities than in this old cold fort.

It was with some pleasure and surprise when he started telling me of his plans. What he hoped to accomplish, where he hoped to go. As I listened, I realized that he was feeling hemmed in by the Tenth Cycle therns, most of them were maneuvering to increase their own influence and power. And I was embarrassed and sickened to learn that it was not just Sekor Xor who was after my body to be used as the source of power and influence over the next hatched hekkador.

Steering the conversations away from the unpleasant, I discovered that my father had been negotiating with one of the most remote and hidden empires on the planet. That the empire was one of the few places on the planet that the first-born’s battleships were not only not useful but would not even be allowed was welcome news.

Thurid’s ties to the underground movement in Xodar’s court would be less important. His plans to usurp the usurper would not be as critical in the restoration of the one true religion if the energies of that hidden empire could be harnessed. And the fact that the First Born raiders were unable to reach the cities of this empire made the place all the more attractive.

My father’s confidence in me as he told me his plans was a surprise, that he had not a second thought that the slaves and guards were also privy to these comments seemed to be lost to him. I always checked who was present. I knew my three friends would not reveal them to Thurid. My teal guards were no danger to me or my plans or my father's plans. But all the others I did not know. Not even Shab-Tee, my father's own spy. She could be, as far as I knew, in Thurid’s employ or Sekor Xor or one of the other Tenth Cycle therns.

In all my father’s ramblings, the one thing I had trouble following was the convoluted long-term plans for restoring the ancient religion. The logic of my father’s plans for the restoration was absent. Only the desire was there. It was, at times, all he talked about.

Listening to him, I wondered who was to be the goddess? Would my father assume the role, the name, and the gender? Or were there plans to make me a figurehead? Would I be asked to take that loathed name at some point? I knew that I would not, could not, be anyone but myself. If I were to be the goddess, Issus would fall, and Phaidor would take her place.

But, my own long-term goal was to restore the position of the women in my family.

That was one of the reasons I needed someone like John Carter. With him at my side, it would be much easier to facilitate that restoration. None would dare question my rights or the rights of my daughters to control our own destinies, just as those of the red races did.

I know this might confuse many who have read the accounts of John Carter and his adventures. But you must remember that account was filtered through the mind of a man from Jasoom. Told by him to another. One who freely acknowledged that he modified the story again to suit the tastes and mores of his contemporaries.

It is true, Helium had lost most of the women of the royal family, Dejah Thoris being the only one remaining when John Carter met her. A large part of the duties of the women had fallen on the men. In that, I think, John Carter felt most at home there, in that city and nation that more closely matched what he was used to.

But, I was the sole holy family female, the lynchpin of the entire future of the ancient thern way of life. Of course, that way of life was all but gone for the majority of the thern race. A new Jeddera and Jeddak and by extension a new royal family had been established at the fall of the holy religion.

I did not know how the new society was forming, but I was sure it would be a mixture of what had come before and what the red races practiced. In either case, the new royal family would be defined not by who sat on the throne during times of open warfare, but who sat there daily meting out justice and planning the economy, manufacturing, and trade. It would be a woman and her sisters, cousins, and daughters. They would find and bind the strongest warriors in mind and body. Those who could lead and who could win wars with the least cost to the nation in lives and money.

I had no idea if the new order for the thern would have them bound themselves for life as the red races did, or for a year at a time, or if the women would start taking multiple bond mates to suit the many needs of the nation.


	49. Plans Continue

### Plans Continue

I had the two plans and a hope. I assigned one plan to be organized by Darria and Than Ghan, the other plan to be organized by Kuriod, and the hope, the dream, the desire was mine.

The organization of the air escape was Kruriod’s to explore. He would check to see if there were scheduled flights, what aircraft were stored here, what aircraft were crewed by those loyal to my father, or others, and if any could be suborned to serve me. He was also tasked with finding ways to move secretly to the hangers on that tower’s roof. Could we all move and make it to a swift flier large enough to take us all? Could we get a large enough head start?

The organization of the valley escape plan was left to the servant and the guard. My only contribution was the goal. After that, my position and rank kept me from the contacts needed to organize and execute. The goal was to remove Thuvia and Dejah Thoris from the hands of their captors. To take and hide them somewhere in the great valley below with enough protection to keep them safe from the marauding bands or any pursuit this citadel could manage. To that end, many guards and servants would be needed to execute the exodus.

John Carter was still out there somewhere likely looking for us -- for her. Maybe, if Darria’s efforts succeeded, he would find her in the valley, I knew he would care for Thuvia too. Me? I had my doubts, and I did not plan to go with them when they left.

By my staying, I might be able to persuade my father to abandon them. To make his way to safety in one of the loyal cities or even the empire of the north pole.

If I were to desert him now, there would be no effort spared in retrieving me. I was his only link to legitimacy in the eyes of the thern now. He needed me.

If the escape plans failed, either being discovered or running out of time. Then my only hope was to find some way to return both my former companions of captivity to their respective homelands along the way. What that would look like, I did not know. I knew that Dejah Thoris's son ruled in Helium. I knew she would be welcome there with open arms, perhaps Thuvia too, if her behavior when Carthoris’s name was mentioned was an indication of some mutual attraction.

I arranged to have Than Ghan and Darria travel together most of the time. I needed them to have time to organize and coordinate those they hoped would agree to escape with and protect the princesses.

Than Ghan became Darria’s usual guard. He escorted her back and forth to my father who she continued to report to as his spy. I assumed her reports matched those of Shab-Tee, I had no idea if Shab-Tee was becoming suspicious of the time I spent with my two favored guards and Darria.

He also guarded her on the errands I sent her on. I asked her to arrange and deliver meals to me, my guards on duty, and those in the duty room. I asked her to search and find items I might want to take with me when I left this place. All the things that a spoiled child of the Holy Hekkador might want, shiny baubles, silks and furs, cosmetics, oils, soaps, and perfumes. I sent her to the storerooms and the logistics clerks to arrange the import, smuggled through contacts within both the Temple of Issus and the Valley Dor, of things I wanted. She was often gone, and I always assigned either Than Ghan or Kuriod to be her guard during these errands, sometimes both.

Eventually, someone, either Sekor Xor or Thurid, became suspicious of both Kuriod and Than Ghan. When either was on duty in my antechamber, they were often matched with one or two guards who did not wear any of my colors. If I asked either Than Ghan or Kuriod to post within my inner chambers they were accompanied by one of those guards. When I tried to dismiss the unwanted men, they refused. They knew that their guard captain would support their actions. And their guard captain reported directly to my father.

This led me to believe that my own guard was riddled with spies, likely from all three camps, my father, Thurid, and Sekor Xor. Maybe others? Who the guard captain was loyal to, I did not know? But now, I knew it was not to me. How best to deal with that situation?

I had been cut off from communicating with either of my most loyal guards by the guard captain always assigning them to duty with one of those I knew must be a spy for one camp or another. Even as the daughter of the Holy Hekkador, I had no power to change that. I could get them alone with Darria as I sent them on errands, but I was unsuccessful in being alone with either one.

All communication with them was now via Darria. It had been agreed early on that she would keep most of the planning details to herself. When she was ready, then she would tell us it was time to go. I did not want to risk revealing what I knew through some accidental word or even the remote chance that one of the red slaves in the employ of my father, Thurid, or one of the others would discover it via an accidental touch and report back.

Darria was training me to block the transmission of those thoughts, but the facilities of the thern mind were very much rudimentary when compared to one of the red race. I was proud to say I was improving, but I would not trust my abilities.

I still managed to order Than Ghan, and only Than Ghan, to escort Darria on her errands. I knew this displeased the guard captain, but I did not care. At these times, I usually sent the guard suspected of being a spy out of my room and asked for a new pair of guards.

To mix things up, I started sending a specific guard with Shab-Tee. I asked her to do some of the least important errands, anything I could think up. Maybe I wanted a drink of a specific fruit, or I wanted an eyeshadow to match a specific silk. My hope was to throw some confusion into the information the spies were reporting. Let them wonder if this other man, who I believed belonged to Thurid’s camp, was really a double agent.


	50. Taunting Dejah Thoris

### Taunting Dejah Thoris

I noticed a change in my father. When I visited now, instead of talking about his plans, he wanted to do nothing.

Almost nothing. He would ignore most of us, but at times he would order Dejah Thoris to come before him. He would look her over. What his thoughts were, I had no idea. What he wanted; I do not know. Nor did Dejah Thoris, who he usually ignored as she stood before his desk. An occasional glace was all he spared her. Sometimes he asked her questions about her home. Sometimes, I think to torture her, he would tell her news his spies were reporting. The continued searches for her father and grandfather were winding down. The whole planet had been covered with no sign of them or their mighty fleets. They had just disappeared, almost as if they had never been. A smile always accompanied these taunts.

I noticed there was no world of Helium itself, of her son, or of John Carter. But I started to wonder if John Carter was the reason for the change in my father’s behavior.

At times, my father would dismiss my party, all except Dejah Thoris. Her, he would assign a guard to and send her to visit Thurid or one of the several Tenth Cycle therns vying for influence. What his purpose for these audiences might be was beyond me. I could not even begin to think of what game he was playing. Dejah Thoris always said that the guards kept her safe, but each of the men would be allowed to examine her health, and reports of her status, position, family, and rank were presented, almost as if listing the qualities of an item for sale.

I did notice that the guards assigned to escort here were always the same ten and an officer. Two of the guards my father had assigned wore yellow-blue variegated strips of silk woven into their harness. That indicated that they were friendly to me and by extension to Dejah Thoris. But I started to wonder, were they spies for my father. Was my plan to form my own force large enough to leave here and make its way into the valley below discovered?


	51. Visible Results

### Visible Results

Instead of visiting my father, I started keeping Dejah Thoris away from him, and by extension, away from the others. As long as she was with me, or in my rooms, she was safe.

My outings were now as they had been at the start, to look the citadel over. To observe. To look for weaknesses and to look for ways out. I started wondering if I should leave too. Was my influence over my father only in my head? Would he even care if I left?

I kept the princesses close to me; I kept my trusted guards close to them. I noticed that the utan of my father’s guard posted near me was training hard, I also noticed that several of the most obvious spies were being seriously injured, and by seriously injured, I mean killed. The number of yellow-blue variegated silks worn by that company increased almost daily. I felt a little safer, but the more who had an idea of what I was up to, the greater the risk there was that the plan would be discovered.

I also started to notice several of the lower caste thern women wearing Helium blue silk outlined in teal and the golden yellow matching the yellow in my friendly guards’ silks. I wondered what that signified if anything. Surprisingly, the same combination of colors was appearing in the silks of slaves attached to several Tenth Cycle therns who I knew were not coming with my father in his quest to set up operations in a safer place. These masters would remain here to hold the fort as it were.

On the last trip I ever made around the citadel, I saw a familiar face in the group of slaves of one of those Tenth Cycle therns. I was so shocked I stopped in my tracks.

She was one of the slaves, a handmaid, from the last days of Issus. She was from Helium. She should have been freed on the day Helium invaded the Temples of Issus. How had she come here? She was wearing a combination of Helium blue, teal, and yellow. She saw the three of us, her three previous companions in the service of Issus. I thought I saw her slightly nod her head to us along with a slightly crooked mischievous smile that quickly disappeared from her face as soon as it appeared.

I turned to look back at Dejah Thoris and Thuvia to see if they had noticed the woman. I caught Darria subtly returning the head nod. I could not ask questions here, and with the way I was being watched by the spies in my own guards, I did not think I would have a chance to ask her anytime soon. I felt the time to send Dejah Thoris and Thuvia on their way was near.

On that same walk, I noticed slaves and lower-thern women working together moving stores and supplies to locations near the gates of the citadel. I knew something was going on. That no one else seemed to notice, I put down to the fact that the lower caste and the slaves were often all but invisible to the important people rushing here and there about their important tasks, making every effort to move the world to favor themselves.

I knew I was one of those important people, I wanted to be safe, and I wanted to have the control to keep me that way. I never wanted to be subject to capture or to live a life where a slip of expression or a clumsy moment could get me killed.

That I felt only marginally safer here than during my time in the service of Issus spoke to my unease at the presence of Thurid. That and the plotting among the Tenth Cycle that was growing more evident as the days passed.

I continued watching the slaves. Having spent time as one, I had a better understanding of just how much depended on them. How much they understood and how easily they gathered information, and sometimes how easily they moved about unnoticed.

The next thing that caught my eye on that walk was one of the yellow-blue guards helping, really helping, one of the slaves lift a heavy load onto her back. I did not miss seeing the gentle touches exchanged between them as she went on her way. And, I was almost positive I had seen a short slim blade passed to the slave when they assumed no one was looking. A blade she tucked into her harness in a concealed sheath. Just as I had armed Dejah Thoris and Thuvia, so this guard had armed a slave.

What was going on? Were the plans to escape into the valley near fruition? Was it time to say goodbye?


	52. Trigger

### Trigger

There was unusual energy in the air, almost like the feeling before a lightning strike. And like a Barsoomian lightning strike, this feeling was rare.

Curious, I walk to my anteroom to check on who was stationed there. I saw four of the inner guard, my personal guard, all wearing a piece of the yellow-blue silk wrapped around the hilt of their sword from pommel to the guard. They also had adopted a symbol on their metal, a device that resembled in no small part that found in my grandmother's family, the holy family of the thern as it had descended the female line for many thousands of years. Until my father, who was old, ancient, had changed things.

Continuing, I look in the guardroom just outside my assigned apartments.

There seemed to be an agitation in the room. Everyone was awake, none were sleeping or resting. All were tending to swords and equipment. Helmets, greaves, and bracers were ready. There was a look of wariness in the eyes of many.

A large contingent of guards displaying silks of Helium blue, yellow, and teal stood to one side surrounding a tall imposing woman of the thern guard. She frowned as her eyes met mine.

Than Ghan and Kuriod stood in the center of a contingent wearing the variegated yellow-blue silks of what I now thought of as my personal guard, the original twenty that had been assigned to me when we arrived. Their numbers were smaller now, some having met unfortunate accidents during training.

Kuriod shakes his head as he spots my own peeking into the room. His look telling me that I needed to be careful.

Walking back through my anteroom, the guards seemed on edge, ready to draw their swords at any moment. All of these men were wearing my colors. They kept watchful eyes on me and the surroundings as I walked across the room.

So! I was not the only one to feel the tension.

Dejah and Thuvia were waiting for me at our little table where we sometimes ate our morning meal. As it was usually four who ate together, I was missing Darria’s presence.

The room which held the small table had at one time been a look-out’s post. The large horizontal rectangle of an open-air window looked out across the nearer structures of the citadel and on out over the valley below. The distant wall of ice on the far side contrasted with the warmer colors of vegetation and flowing water found far below the ice barrier’s rim.

“Where is Darria? I feel uneasy this morning. The guards are on edge. I would have her brief us on what she knows from her friends around the citadel. And I think it is time she tells us the status of her plans. From what I observed yesterday, they must be close to execution.”

"We noticed too. We are ready to leave at any time," Thuvia's words indicating that she and Dejah Thoris had been discussing what they also had seen.

Darria’s voice behind me gets stronger as she enters the room, “That is good. It is time. If we wait any longer, the chance of discovery is too great. Not only that, but a large flier has arrived. From what Kuriod and I can gather it takes up most of the open space on the roof of the hanger tower. It is an odd-looking small freighter, and I am afraid there is a lot of activity in that tower now. There are too many guards watching over those moving supplies and your father’s office onto that freighter for us to dare that route.

“And there is a rumor that John Carter has been spotted in the valley below. It is, of course, your choice. But given the circumstances, I believe your best course of action is to avoid the hanger, gather our forces, and head down into the valley. Maybe we can intercept John Carter, or he might find us along the way.”

“That would be my choice,” came from Dejah Thoris. I looked over to see Thuvia and Dejah smiling at one another, a delighted look on both their faces.

I have an additional choice to make. Do I stay and try to influence my father into leaving without retaking them? Or do I go with them, and trust to Dejah and Thuvia to keep me safe from John Carter’s wrath? And would the forces Darria and Than Ghan had gathered be enough to protect us from both the savages and any pursuit that might come from the citadel?

Of other importance to me, would the unspoken and unresolved issue of who would claim John Carter as protector come to a head? I had dreams of using his power to build an impregnable wall of bodies and steel to protect me from the horrors of the world. A world that had far shown no indication that it cared about me.

Looking back, as I tell my story, I realize that I was blind to all that was around me. I also still did not understand that John Carter was his own man, one who made his own choices. That he, unlike many I had encountered, was not awed by my position or status. That he was not that easily swayed by promises of riches or of physical pleasure.

Almost as if speaking my thoughts, I tell my companions, “To hide our intentions, I suggest we proceed as if it were any other day. We ready ourselves for our daily stroll while sending word to start our allies gathering, but not too near the gates, that might draw suspicion.”

The time had come to put our plans into motion.


	53. The Route to Freedom

### The Route to Freedom

Our party assembled as usual. All four servants were about so all four, Dejah Thoris, Thuvia, Darria, and Shab-Tee were to accompany me. I was worried about taking Shab-Tee, but I could not chance she would raise an alarm if she became suspicious of our activities.

As we knew we were leaving, well all of us except Shab-Tee, we added pouches to our harness that were usually left behind. I made sure to have my keepsakes from the Temple of the Sun with me and I surreptitiously checked that all were armed, again except for Shab-Tee.

Than Ghan and Kuriod, without their usual shadows, flanked my servants and me as we set out from my inner chambers. The absence of their shadows added to my unease. The hairs at the back of my neck stood up as I looked at my companions. They too seemed to feel as if something were about to happen. We knew we were about to leave but it was more than that. But did anyone else in the fortress know? If they did, were they doing something about it?

We would need every able-bodied ally on our trek into the valley below. To that end, I planned to take every one of my original personal guards. The unit had started off at a strength of twenty-one warriors organized into ten two-man units and one padwar. Over time, due to training accidents, that number had been reduced to sixteen. Of the sixteen, three, Than Ghan, Kuriod, and the padwar, displayed the green and blue variegated silks, and every warrior of the rest wore the shades of yellow and blue variegated silk. In my head, I called these my teal guards, and my green guards.

In the larger guard rooms surrounding me were an utan of my father’s own guards, but even these had a fair number of green guards mixed into the number. Others wore different variations of silks about their person, the one that interested me most were those who wore Helium blue bordered in yellow and teal. In the choice of color, they seemed to be allied to my own guards, but were they?

The scene from earlier flashed through my mind. Something had riled up the guards in the room nearest my doors. I had yet been able to ask either Kuriod or Than Ghan as Shab-Tee was about. I knew she was spying for my father. If we did not reach the safety of the valley, I needed her to be as clueless as possible.

As we left the inner suite of apartments that had been mine, we were first gathered the four who were standing guard in the anteroom. Next, we gathered the rest of the green guards just outside my doors. Advancing to the nearest guard room to pick up the mandated additional guards that my father always wanted about me so that I always had thirty warriors with me, I would only need another seven two-man units to make up the numbers.

I entered the room to request the guards, however, the dwar of the utan was not present. He, I knew, was not loyal to me. Again, the absence of someone who should be there added to my jangled nerves.

What did await me were thirty-two men and women assembled, ready to set out. Of thirty than, just short of half were members of my green guards, the rest were the Helium blue. Both padwars present wore the Helium blue silks woven into their harness. All were armored up, looking like they were ready to take on the world.

Confused at the assembled three tans and two padwars I stopped. Were they expecting to go with us? Than Ghan and Kuriod advanced to grasp the arms of the two padwars, one man and one woman, they bowed low to my party. Were they loyal to me? Why did they not just wear the variegated silks? If not me, then who?

The padwar of my unit moved to join them. I realized then that in choosing my two personal warriors, I had promoted them to at least the rank of padwar in my forming army, perhaps even dwar.

I looked at the company of forty-eight warriors. I realized that by taking a guard contingent one and half times its usual size I would be conspicuous. And how was I going to deal with the one person here who I knew was a spy for my father and who had now likely seen too much?

There were now risks all around. How was I to reduce that risk?

“I don’t like this, but we need to split up,” I told my friends and the leaders of the guard. “One of our goals was not to draw too much attention.”

Than Ghan spoke up, “I think it is too late. While not everyone in the fortress knows what is happening, I think too many suspect our plans and have started to make their own move this morning. I could not tell you earlier for fear that spies were still about but looking around, I think we must trust those with you now.”

Taking another look at the assembled guards and servants, Than Ghan continued, ”Kuriod and I were almost killed in our sleep this morning.”

At this news, Darria sucked in a deep breath of air. The need to touch her lover overcame her better senses as she reached out and laid her hand on his neck. The very same spot as all those days ago when I had interrogated them. She stood tucked under his chin as he put an arm around her and pulled her in near. As he spoke, he looked me in the eye. He almost seemed to be daring me to disapprove of the contact, the closeness of a thern to one of the lesser races.

“The two who have been attached to us recently were about the plunge daggers into us as we slept, and they would have succeeded but for the sudden wakening of one of our compatriots who quickly assessed the situation and stuck the one standing over me down. The surprised grunt and sudden sound of a falling body alerted me and disturbed the one standing over Kuriod. The assassin did not last long with the odds now three to one. We hid the bodies the best we could, but when the dwar noticed we were alive and his favorites missing he looked disturbed. I don’t think we can count on surprise any longer.”

Darria without turning or looking over her shoulder said, "I agree, everything he has told you is true and I feel the fear of discovery, the fear of failing you, the fear. . . the fear of losing me." Her voice trailed off at the end but returned stronger. "He knows my concern is the rescue of the princesses. He knows much about me I have not shared. He knows my goal is to restore some stability to the empire of Helium and the best way to do that is to return the sole remaining royal woman to her home. I have my reasons and they are honorable."

“Then we go as we are, Than Ghan you will take ten warriors and bring up the rear, guard our backs. Darria you go with him, if everything falls apart, try to reach the plains, start a life, maybe start a civilization in that rich fertile valley.”

Still tucked into Than Ghan’s body her arms now encircling his waist. She nodded, “Thank you. You are a most unusual princess.”

“I’m not a princess. I am the daughter of the Hekkador, I am the mother of the next Hekkador, that is all.”

Darria turned inside the circle of Than Ghan’s arms to face me. The top of her head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“You are a Jedderra then. The senior woman in your house, the source of all.” She turned and looked me in the eye. The fire there surprised me. "Never forget my princess. You are the most important member of the Hekkador’s house. To deny that is to invite imbalance in the thern.”

I knew she was right, but I had seen what total control by a single woman could create. Issus was ever there, a warning that balance, sanity, required more. But Darria was right too. My father’s iron fist, control of all, and subversion of law and tradition had created a society just as ill as the one Issus had reigned over.

“Kuriod, you take twenty and create a vanguard." I continued. I was done with the thoughts and ideas that twisted my stomach into a knot. It was not helpful in our situation, we needed to move, to escape this place. My mind was made up I would make the trek into the valley, there to keep the princesses safe and to maybe follow my own advice and start a civilization among the savages.

“We need a route that is direct but will draw the least attention.”

Here one of the padwar of the outer guard spoke up. “We have been preparing for this day. Those loyal to Helium and her allies have been at work to free the princess.”

“Our mission was to keep an eye on the remnants of the past. Making sure it stayed in the past. But once here we discovered her presence. Unfortunately, by chance or by discovery our communications link to home was killed. Cut off from our contacts and unable to inform our Jeddak of our discovery we set about finding ways to rescue her.

“We were surprised to be approached by those loyal to you. And we were more surprised when we found you were looking for ways to send the princess to safety. Our goal here is the same. But only so far as rescuing the princess. As for you, you are of the past, I see now that you are much saner than your father, but there is a new Jedderra, a new Jeddak.

“Our emerging society is too complex to explain here but you should know here and now I am, we are, your ally. There are tunnels and corridors that lead to the gate, these should keep us hidden until we are close to the wall. Will you let me lead the way?”

I look to my friends, they nod ascent, we all knew we were putting our lives in the hands of an unknown, but we knew our party would attract immediate attention should we venture into the open. The resulting investigation of that attention would be hard to bluff and harder to fight through.

“Very well, join Kuriod in the vanguard, lead us to these tunnels. Once we are out of the fortress and safely down into the valley, we may luck into joining John Carter, who is rumored to be close to finding this place. May we all go with our ancestors and live to see a better day."

She nodded a short bow and joined Kuriod. The two of them organized two tans of warriors and led them out of the room and down a nearby ramp. Next came two padwars, thirteen of my original guards, three red women, and me. Behind us followed Darria, Than Ghan, and ten of the green guards from the outer utan.

Leading us down ramps to the lowest levels of the building housing my quarters the vanguard lead by Kuriod and the padwar of the new thern order made their way to dusty and unused rooms. Rooms that at one time must have stored munitions or rations for this forgotten outpost.

The padwar stood before a blank wall, where she pulled a radium torch out of one of her pouches, set the intensity of the beam to maximum brightness, and then narrowed the width to a line of light. This she directed at the wall in a zig-zag pattern that seemed to have no rhyme or reason but was somehow was oddly familiar. Soon the entire wall receded into the floor revealing a wide corridor with a gentle declining slope.

Turning to Kuriod she discussed something I could not hear; he and she then arranged the twenty men in offsetting ranks of four warriors each. The five units formed an interlocking staggered shield wall before us. As the corridor widened or narrowed, the interlocking ranks would either spread to cover the width or contract as the route narrowed. I assume the padwar knew the route would accommodate the four across rank at its narrowest.

Putting away her torch she ordered one man per squad to direct their own torches down the corridor to light our way. The leading ranks flashlights played about the dark tunnel as they advanced. We followed into the stygian darkness trusting the advance unit to warn us of any pitfalls.

We passed branching corridors, most just as wide but some much narrower. As we reached one of these the padwar direct the vanguard to turn down the new tunnel. This tunnel was wide enough to only take four at a time, and so the vanguard contracted down to the five ranks of four columns that was its most compact formation.

I assume the branching tunnels we passed would lead to other hidden doors in the lowest levels of the buildings in the fortress. I briefly wondered if it would be better to switch plans and redirect our energies into ascending the hanger tower, there to cease the waiting freighter and take off. That we would run into resistance was a surety. We would lose many lives. I was reluctant to risk any of these people. The safest route seemed to be into the valley. There was a chance that everyone here, and those gathered in other locations, would be able to make it down the path to the valley without a loss of life.

As we proceeded, I had to take it on faith that we were headed towards the gate. Faith in a thern I knew viewed me as a member of the old and hated ways of our race.

This new tunnel also had branching corridors, but most of these would only take one or two people across. We were not too worried at being discovered here in the ancient and likely forgotten tunnels beneath the fortress. That the place had been built into the side of a mountain, a mountain chain that also claimed the realms of the First Born and the thern was an oversight. One I was to pay dearly for.


	54. Unpleasant Outcomes

### Unpleasant Outcomes

That the leader of our vanguard had led us into a trap was my first thought. But after the initial shock, I saw that the attackers were raiders of the First Born. I knew that she would not have allied with them as I suspected the two races were still wary of each other, no matter both were now ruled in the manner of the red men. And both counted Helium as a friend.

The ancient feud was too long and too bloody for there to be a settled peace. It was then that I saw that several of the leaders of these attackers wore devices signifying them as belonging to Thurid’s house.

I knew where this danger came from. But what was the goal of these raiders? I could not believe they were here to intercept us on our way out of the fortress. The number of men lined up in the corridor beyond the bend in the corridor was unknown. But from the rising sound, there must have been at least a hundred, maybe more.

My suspicion was that the raider's leader must have seen the light from our vanguard and signaled a halt. They likely were not using torches in their stealthy advance into the citadel from who knows where in the tunnel and cave complex riddling the mountains.

After discovering us, the raiders were likely hiding and waiting for our company to pass before continuing their way to their objective. We must have been quite the surprise being discovered here in the abandoned unground passages used by the ancients to supply and spy on this outpost of the thern.

The vanguard passed before them without incident, but on seeing one of their goals walking right in front of them, they acted. We three women, who had escaped Thurid’s wrath, slaves to Issus, and desired by the leader of their house for his own purposes, must have been one of their objectives.

I wonder now if we were the primary target of the attack all along and had only delivered ourselves into their hands earlier than they planned. Or was their goal larger? Were they here to assassinate my father along with our capture? Or were they here to take this citadel for themselves?

The attack came just after the two princesses and I passed the corridor they had been moving through and were now using as a hiding place. Suddenly six of my guards surrounding our little party in the middle of the formation were felled before we knew what was on us. The princesses and I were surrounded, protected only by the remaining nine, two padwars and seven thans. I had just lost six of my green guard without them ever having a chance to defend themselves. A knot appeared in my stomach, a spark of anger ignited in my heart.

The memory of my capture at the hands of the black pirates returned to me. Vivid images of the slaughter of my temple guards and the death of my surrogate mother as she defended me sprang before my eyes. The fear and the anger mixed in me producing a being I was wholly unfamiliar with. I wanted to lash out, to destroy, to take out my frustrations on these warriors of Thurid’s, and, if possible, Thurid himself when I next saw him.

Shaking off the image, I drew my long dagger. It was Thurid’s own weapon. The goal of that dagger was Thurid's vile heart. The dagger and its mission lived in the sheath on my right thigh. Was Thurid with these raiders? Would the dagger finish its quest today? Would I live through this ordeal? And what about my sisters?

Dejah Thoris and Thuvia had drawn their blades from the hidden recesses of their harnesses. Surprised, Shab-Tee looked around at the weapons in the hands of slaves. Now she alone was unarmed. It was then she did a curious thing as she took a whistle from a pouch at her side and blew. Three long piercing sounds emanated from the instrument before she dropped it to the floor and stepped on it to break it. What the purpose of that was, I did not know then, but I was soon to find out.

I stood with my friends, our dagger's threatening those who might get past our guards in their effort to take us. Three raiders almost reached us but had not used their longer swords to harm us. That they were to take us alive mostly unharmed was evident from their behavior.

Our protectors, now over the initial shock, were keeping the raiders at bay. The three overextended raiders seeking to exploit their initial attack were struck down as they sought to capture the three of us. If they had managed to remove us from our protection and retreated down the narrow side corridor, there would have been no route to saving us from the raiders.

Seeing their first losses, the raiders took a step back to regroup. The long column of pirates could be seen down the long narrow corridor from which they had attacked. They had bunched up in their hast to enter the wider corridor. To capture us and to control any counterattack that might come from the warriors that had just passed.

I think the presence of the long-wicked daggers in the hands of their prey took them by surprise. They had expected easy captures. In hesitating, they had provided the time needed for the rear guard to advance and place themselves between us and the raiders. Dejah Thoris, Thuvia, Shab-Tee, and I were moved along the far side of the corridor into the midst of the larger vanguard unit. The rearguard now taking position along-side the nine remaining of my center force to bottle the raiders in their hole.

In meeting them here in the dark tunnels, we may have been given an advantage. We had met them when they were most containable. Stretched as they were down a long narrow corridor, we could hold them off with only a few warriors. And if we managed to block that corridor somehow, who knew if there was another way into the citadel from their position.

As I watched, Darria, staying near Than Ghan's side, picked up a sword dropped by one of my slain guards. The variegated yellows and blues of the hilt matched many in the company seeking to block the raiders from gaining the wider corridor. Later, I wondered if the raiders at first dismissed Darria. They saw a woman, a red, and her short reach as being beneath their attention. The curious gender and race blindness of the First Born was working against them.

From the safety in the midst of the vanguard unit, I could see we were making progress bottling the raiders in their hole. I watched as Darria’s quick and sudden attacks take many by surprise as she flanks and slaughters those engaged with Than Ghan. That Than Ghan was at the forefront of our counterattack was no surprise. I suppose I should not have been surprised that Darria was right there alongside him.

Soon most of the raiders that had managed to reach the main corridor during their initial attack joined my own dead guards on the floor. The trailing green guards having avenged their fellows. It looked to be tough footing for those still fighting as the bodies and the blood hampered their movement. To clear the floor and to hamper the raiders, I saw the warriors of the green guard pick up the dead bodies of the attacking raiders, then using their four largest men, they tossed the bodies of the dead raiders over the heads of the defenders into the midst of the attackers to impede their footing and their progress into the main corridor. The raiders could not return the favor as their corridor was too narrow to achieve the swinging motion needed to gain momentum for the toss. Our own losses were dragged out of the way and placed in another branching tunnel not far from the fight.

There were many more raiders than were of us, and they continued to press forward. Than Ghan, the two padwars, and their fifteen remaining warriors kept them bottled in their side corridor. Now only one or two of them could attack at the entrance. But by the same token, we could not leave as the narrow defense could not deal with the raiders decisively or for long. The sheer numerical advantage of the raiders would over time wear out the defenders.

Kuriod joined me where we stood.

“We need to keep moving. We can leave the rear guard to bottle these pirates in their hole until we reach a more defensible position and find a place of safety for you and the princesses. We will have to split the vanguard in half to create a new rear guard. But we should be able to keep you safe provided we do not run into more raiders down here.”

"That sounds like the best we can do. We cannot be held here until more above become suspicious of my absence. The disappearance of the princesses will be noticed sooner or later by someone. We need to move and get into the valley before we are missed. But we also need every warrior to make our way in the savage lands below. We will need a plan to withdraw the rear guard from their duty here, one that allows them to escape. See if you can find a way to collapse that tunnel on the raiders and block them from following us. But for now, we move.”

I was reluctant to leave Darria behind, But Darria would not leave Than Ghan. Her coordinated attacks at his side had more than once saved his life. She would not leave, not now, not in this place. Her sword was covered in the blood of our enemies. She took her turn alongside Than Ghan in preventing the First Born from reaching the larger corridor.

I looked for her as we readied to leave. She and Than Ghan were taking a breather, sitting side by side against the wall opposite the attack, their swords and bodies covered in blood. I said a silent goodbye to her from the center of the new formation, and I think she must have sensed it as she turned her head and smiled and saluted me as we left.

The vanguard began to hustle us down the tunnel toward what we hoped was safety and a route out into the ravine that led down to the valley.

We did not make it far. The results of Shab-Tee's piercing signal manifested before us before we could make it more than a hundred meters down the tunnel. A large party of thern warriors lead by Sekor Xor appeared in the beams of our lights. We were spotlighted in theirs. We froze in place as did they.

“Surrender yourself Phaidor, and all with you may pass, even the heretics and the traitors. If you resist, then all will die, All, except Phaidor who will become mine.”

The vanguard padwar looked at Kuriod with a speculative look on her face. I could see she was weighing the option. I knew she might take the offer, as what was I to her? Kuriod would not. I knew she should not trust the Tenth Cycle thern. I think that she knew that too. Also, she did not want to break the alliance with the teal and green guards that she would need to protect the princess in the valley.

Dejah Thoris spoke then to remove all doubt, "Any who value me must also value Phaidor. We are linked here and now. She is my sister. If you serve me, you serve her.”

With that, the forward guards fell on Sekor Xor's, and even though we were outnumbered, we made good headway into his formation. But his greater numbers started showing as the fight continued. His reserve warriors were fresher, not having to fight as often as mine. The narrow tunnel kept the fighting to about four each at a time. We started taking more losses, and we could not force our way forward.

"Return to our companions, we must regroup," I yelled. We started a fighting retreat.

I noticed Kuriod taking the brunt of the fighting during this slow retreat. His skill and physic were significantly better than all who opposed him. And, except the padwar, all others who were in our own company. The woman and Kuriod usually fought side by side, flanked by their own best warrior, a green guard and a Helium blue. That unit of four striking down all who followed us too closely. In doing so, they gave their warriors time to rest their arms and regain their breath as we retreated to our reinforcements.

As we approached the fight that still raged with the First Born behind, I sent a messenger to tell them to join up with us as we passed. We would let the First Born out just as Sekor Xor and his warriors passed the tunnel. I doubted they would join up as allies. They were rivals in every sense of the word having the same goals but different masters.

We had lost Shab-Tee somewhere in the fight, as I noticed her absence and looked for her body, I found her near Sekor Xor, alive. I saw her take up station behind him. Assuming the attitude of a dutiful slave. Turning to Dejah, I said, "Well, we now know who besides my father Shab-Tee was reporting to."

She smiled, “It is hard to know who to trust. Maybe we will find a way out and meet up with more of our factions near the gate later. Let us hope we can make good our escape and rendezvous with John Carter somewhere in the valley.”

As we passed our warriors still holding the raiders, raised voices were heard, I thought Thruid's own sounded in the distance somewhere down one of the many tunnels. That would be all we needed, to be attacked on yet another front. What had happened to my simple escape!?

Just as Kuriod, the padwar, with their two companions neared Than Ghan's unit, those fighting the raiders were told to join our party.

Darria stayed with Than GhanThe eight warriors, for Darria proved herself such, held the two attacking factions at bay. For a while, the eight battled on two connected fronts preparing to back away to let First Born and Sekor Xor's forces join in what I hoped would be a melee beneficial to me.

and two others to contain the raiders.

I expected it would be a savage fight and was not disappointed. The raiders fell on Sekor Xor’s warriors as soon as the pressure of ours was released. Having lost two, the tired six were moving as fast as they could from the melee. Our warriors moved quickly, hoping to gain the safety of our reformed party as we sought a new way out of the tunnel system.

But Sekor Xor had other ideas, he skirted the edge of the melee and coming in on Kuriod's blindside was about to strike him down from behind. Than Ghan noticed and intervened, in doing so, he exposed himself to a raider fresh from the rear ranks of their party who had managed to get right behind him.

The unrelenting blows proved too fast and too strong for the tired Than Ghan to counter and he was struck in the leg, severing a ligament. He fell to one knee and kept fighting, but he was doomed to stay there, unable to move. He had no hope of rescue or retreat. He kept his long sword and short sword busy fending off attacks. All had forgotten Darria, who seeing her love and his situation, returned to leapt over him and take the First Born in the throat just as she had when defending me. But she was exposed to a flank attack of her own from Sekor Xor, who took the opportunity to run her through the heart.

Than Ghan seeing the fatal blow that killed his love, took revenge. Not caring that he left himself open to the raider’s attack. He lunged using his one good leg and all the energy he had left and buried his own sword to the hilt in Sekor Xor’s breast. A fatal wound as Sekor Xor fell dead. Than Ghan seemed not to notice the dagger in his own breast as his eyes sought Darria nearby, his last effort was to join her where she fell. Their mingling blood joined that covering the floor. It was the first time I noticed the blood covering the corridor, looking at my own feet and seeing the blood that had splashed up on my calves as we had passed the fighting to contain the raiders. The smell became almost overwhelming, and again a sick feeling took my stomach and dropped it into my bowels.

I flashed back to the killing of Belor Faig and Desphid during the riots in the arena, their blood the same color; their bodies, white and red; their hair, gold and black, almost embarrassing in death. Than Ghan's last ounce of energy had been used to take Darria’s hand and put it on his own neck. The same place I had earlier in the day seen her caress when she had needed to touch him.

Kuriod, having been saved, struck down the raider who had killed his friend, and then he kept on going. A renewed and furious energy taking hold of him. His swords leapt quicker than the eye could follow. Before he was done, most of Sekor Xor's warriors and raiders near him lay without heads in the corridor.

The padwar of the vanguard returned to the fight, speaking to Kuriod in odd spaces between blows. Her words I could not hear over the ringing of metal and the shouting of warriors. But she seemed to get through to him. He retreated to stand by her side as fresher warriors took his place and we resumed our retreat. But where were we going?

I thought all was nearly done. The shock of losing Than Ghan and Darria not yet settling in, the needs of the battle still raging. I looked about and noticed that my forty-eight now were about sixteen. What had happened?

It was then I saw Thurid's force of thern traitors, the noise of the battle, and the sight of losing Than Ghan and Darria had kept me from noticing the attack from yet a third direction.

We were going to be captured, either by the remaining raiders, the remaining Sekor Xor warriors, though they were now without a leader and very few, or by Thurid's force.

If Thurid were to join up with his own raiders, then it was all over.

The woman, who I thought of as Kuriod’s padwar, saw the same situation. “We cannot save you; all our direct ways out are blocked; you are safest with your father now. I am sorry. I would have loved to help you find a way back into our reborn society. But the best I can do is save you from these relics of the past by returning you and my princesses to the relative safety of yet another relic.”

The unshed tears making her eyes glisten more powerful than the words.

She guided us to a small narrow corridor nearby that branched from the main route and told us to follow it. She, Kiruiod, and the remaining warriors would follow behind us to keep any off of our backs until we reached the end of this opening. She handed me the radium torch she had used earlier to open the hidden passage.

“Shine this light on the wall at full strength with the narrowest beam, trace the pattern of your grandmother's ancestors on that wall. The tunnel beyond will take you up near your father's quarters. May our ancestors go with you. Oh, and clean up before you get to your father, he might ask too many questions if you three show up looking like you do now. The bruises cannot be helped, but the blood should disappear.”

Her smile was curiously friendly and serious and sad.

I watched as the remaining warriors entered the narrow space behind us, defending the entrance where only one enemy could attack at a time. I saw the woman work her way to the front, where, taking her place in the narrow tunnel, relieved the exhausted Kuriod.

I watched him slumped against the wall behind her, breathing deep and ragged breaths, trying to regain control of the rage that had taken him. He looked over at me. The look of sadness on his face shocked me. His eyes seemed to plead with me to forgive him of his failure.

His words came out staccato and anguished “You need to go, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold them back, keep yourself and the princesses safe. Guile is your weapon now. Use it well.”

The three of us were reluctant to leave, but maybe if we found and opened the door, we could bring our remaining warriors to safety.

Leading the way, I lit the way down the narrow tunnel until I reached the end. Looking back, we could see our party of sixteen was now ten.

Kuriod and the padwar were resting at the end of the line. The blades of the remaining warriors ready to take their turn. Warriors who were strung along the narrow way in single file, ready to sell their lives dearly. Protecting our rear until we could escape. Our last defense was getting what rest they could before the end came.

Standing before the dead-end wall, I did as I had been instructed. Turning the dials to narrow the beam and increase the intensity of light on the torch. I traced the pattern of the ancient holy family on the wall. The wall slowly slid aside, I moved in to look at the small room on the other side. Dejah Thoris and Thuvia followed me into the room. I was about the instruct my warriors to retreat to this place, but the sight that met my eyes was not what I expected. Kuriod was down. He had lost a leg just below the knee on his left side. He must have taken a turn and been wounded and dragged back to his padwar. The warriors stood blocking the way, the woman was placing one of the many straps that had been on her harness around the leg to stop the bleeding. She looked up, saw we were on the other side of the wall. Smiling, she took a spare radium torch from her pouch. This she pointed at the wall near the entrance of the tunnel. Suddenly, a wall slid from the roof, blocking the corridor, but at the same time, our door returned to place. She had trapped herself, the last warriors, and Kuriod in that small place. We had nowhere to go but up the slight incline of the narrow tunnel that had opened on the other side of the room. Beaten and defeated. Our escape to the valley cut off.

The only consolation was that Sekor Xor and all his warriors were dead, but at much too high a price. I would have him live a thousand years if I could have Darria, Than Ghan, and Kuriod back.

As I walked along the new tunnel, the reminders of being captured by the raiders, the horrors of the slaughter of my red and white sisters at the hands of Issus all had an effect. I felt the fear, the hopelessness, and the futility.

The three of us trudged up the tunnel coming to a wall. Taking the radium torch, I once again played the light across the surface in my family’s ancient crest, it opened. We were in a familiar and hated hallway. One that led to my father’s quarters nearby. Quickly Dejah Thoris and Thuvia hid their daggers. And I, I Phaidor, the daughter of the Holy Hekkador, stood blinking back tears of rage.


	55. The Trap

**The Trap**

Notwithstanding the recommendation of the padwar I decided the story I needed to tell my father precluded a bath. No matter the almost overwhelming need to remove the blood and administer pain relievers for the developing bruises, I needed to reach my father as soon as possible.

Nothing was going to relieve the pain I most wanted to disappear. I was angry, and my anger kept me far from anyone least I turn that anger on them. I let my anger control me, to take hold and keep the thoughts and pain at bay. I could feel the need for destruction, for a release of my pent-up emotions. I did not want that damage to be inflicted on my two companions. I was still aware enough to realize the damage that might cause to us and to our chances of escape in the future. Though slim that chance now seemed. No, I would need them in the future, of that I was sure. But here and now, I would rather have John Carter with me than anything else. Perhaps, with him, I would not be feeling alone, powerless, and abandoned by those I had depended on. That death took them did not relieve the sense of desertion.

Marching towards my father's rooms, followed a few steps behind by only Dejah Thoris and Thuvia, we made our way to the entrance. The guards saw us coming and were obviously puzzled by the lack of an escort. Why was it just the three of us?

As we drew closer, they saw the blood, scrapes, and bruises about our bodies. They saw that I was upset as they quickly opened the door and summoned guards in the standby ready room to escort us to my father.

None of the guards wore any of my colors or those loyal to the new thern nation allied to Helium. I assumed all here were loyal to my father. Those loyal to Dejah Thoris or me were either waiting for a signal to depart that would never come, or they were dead.

On entering, I cried out, "Sekor Xor just tried to kidnap me. He slaughtered all my guards and nearly succeeded in abducting the hostages and me. We only just escaped with our lives.”

My father leapt to his feet and advanced on me.

“You are here with only the hostages. Why did they not try to escape?”

“Look at us, we are the target of a plot, all three of us. You think without guards or help they want to be separated from me, their only hope of protection in this place? To be taken as they bolted like a sorak into the arms of those waiting to take them away to who knows what fate? No, they are here, in the safest place they know and with their mistress.”

Just as my father was about to ask another question, he was interrupted by a breathless messenger.

"He is here. He has been spotted entering the trail at the foot of the ravine. His calot is with him. The animal appears to be guiding him by our spoor. They should be here within a zode.”

If John Carter were coming, maybe I could sway him to my side and end this nightmare. I looked to my two companions, but not as their friend, but as their mistress. The face I turned to them hard and unfeeling. The monster was loose, for the monster I am. I could only count on myself and my efforts. All others were failing me, putting me at risk. Rendering me powerless in the face of Thurid, traitorous members of the Tenth Cycle, and my father.

Thurid! Where was he? Was he still down in the tunnels? Dare I hope he had perished in the fighting below? That Sekor Xor was no more was a satisfaction, but it was not enough, not nearly enough to balance what I had lost.

“My daughter, clean yourself and the slaves. I cannot have others knowing of the plots against me.”

My ears hear the words, but I know they hide that he cannot have others see how weak his power has become. That he could not protect his daughter or the hostages from those inside these very walls.

Turning away from me, dismissed from his thoughts and seemingly his concern, he continues, “Guards send word to the gate to follow the plan. He has been reported to still be disguised as a thern of the Tenth Cycle. Let him think the disguise works. Make easy the way to the prepared arena.”

Noticing I had not moved my father looks at me, “What are you waiting for. You and the hostages must be ready, meet me on the balcony of the hanger tower in half a zode. Be prepared to leave this place. Send what belongings you plan to take to the roof of the hanger. They will be stored in your cabin on the airship. We leave tonight. Just as soon as John Carter meets his fate.”

-*=*-

I marched to the doors of my rooms. Straight by the empty guardrooms, the empty antechamber, entering the bathing room I strip my harness and walk directly into the bath. It was still warm from our morning bathing ritual. There were none to greet me here, none but Dejah Thoris and Thuvia to keep me from being totally alone in this still room of warm waters and soft light.

The guards that had followed me at my father’s orders would now be taking control of the antechamber and the guard posts that only this morning had been filled with men and women loyal to at least one of us now bathing in the pool.

I kept to my corner and each of the others, seeming to be either in a similar mood or wary of getting too close to me, kept to their own.

We washed the blood from our bodies and our hair, but I could still feel it even if I could not see it. There was no help reaching difficult places, no gentle caresses as bodies and hair were cleansed. No, the gentle, understanding or sympathetic flow of thoughts and feelings transmitted by familiar touches was gone. Each of us was alone with our thoughts, our pain, our fears.

After we finished cleaning the evidence of our morning disaster as best we could from our outward appearance, we dressed in fresh harness and set about hiding bruises with cosmetics, silks, and in my case baubles, jewels, and ornaments of gold. Bruises on each of us were just starting to darken. Some of my heavy gold bracelets only increased the pain of the developing bruises. While we had not been in the thick of the fight, we were not totally absent from it either.

Some of my father’s delay these last few days was now clear. He had been waiting for this event. He had known John Carter was close. So he had started preparing for our departure, but he had also been preparing for this arrival.

-*=*-

On entering the bed chambers, I found two of my father’s slaves waiting for me.

Bowing low, one of them asked, “Where are the things you intend to take with you on the journey north?”

Startled by the thought, I pointed to the pile of odds and ends that had begun as a decoy reason for all the errands I had my servants undertake as we planned our escape. The thought that both those women, the loyal and the traitorous, were dead brought fresh pain. Cutting through the hardening shell increasingly encasing my heart and clouding my mind.

To shut that pain down, an effort to harden the new shell being built to protect mind and soul from the world sprang up. That shell encasing my heart, my emotions, my very soul had not come from nowhere, it was the reincarnation of the shell I had discarded in the bowels of the Temple of the Sun. It was a shell I foolishly thought I might never need again.

Time was now short, we had to reach the place my father expected us to be, and soon. I needed to see what he had in store for John Carter. And, if possible, I needed to find a way to bring him to my side. Only then would I feel safe. As safe as I had felt during those early days of captivity, surrounded by the First Born raiders, but also protected by the most remarkable and attractive man I or this world had seen. Even then I had known that the entire race enthralled by Issus was no match for that one man. That he was the spitting image of a thern only made him more attractive to me.

-*=*-

Many of the guards escorting Dejah Thoris, Thuvia, and me to the balcony took up stations just inside the tower. The rest followed us onto the platform. I looked up at the ninety meters of the tower as it reached for the domed roof of the cavern far above toward where the ship that would take us on our first steps in the journey away from this place waited. There was no sky directly above me. But looking out over the wall a short distance away, I could see the pink colors of the open-air framed by the cavern and the top of the wall. The light was bouncing and refracting off the walls and around the corners. But none of it seemed to be reaching the courtyard below. At a signal from my father, bright torches set into the walls of the courtyard were lit. And now we waited. If the reports overheard earlier were accurate, John Carter should be making his appearance within half a zode or less.

Not thinking, not feeling, I watched the light in the outside world move towards the colors of the afternoon. How long I stood staring at nothing and everything I do not know. But my contemplation was interrupted by a most unpleasant surprise. A noise behind me attracted my attention as Thurid hurriedly strode onto the balcony platform, looking fresh from his own bath. Not a sign of blood or struggle about his appearance.

He stopped, evidently surprised at the sight of we three women. His anger took control. The look directed my way was murderous. He was alone. Where were the First Born invaders? Where were the thern who had aligned themselves with him? Had he just lost as much as we three? Had his chance to capture this citadel and the three women who could gain him power and dominion over nations and races gone as awry as my own attempt to escape?

He strode toward the three of us, coming upon the hostages first as they stood behind me away from the edge of the balcony. His anger was plain, his restraint gone. He slapped both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris. He would have taken the last few steps to slap me but for the guards stepping in his way glaring at him.

I think they were almost daring him to cross that line, the line over which he could not return. The line that even my father, who needed his support, would find it impossible to forgive. Not because Thurid would have hurt me, but because he would have lost face in front of his warriors if such an attack were not punished in the severest fashion.

The look of hate was all he could manage safely in the current situation. I knew he would be looking for times and ways to get at me. But how was that any different now than before?

My father looked up at the sound of the slaps as anger clouded his face.

“Stop that. What has gotten into you? John Carter is here; we have more important things to deal with than whatever has taken hold of your senses.”

At that statement, both Thurid and I realized that my father was totally in the dark about what had happened below. I had tried to escape, Thurid had tried to capture this place, and neither of us could say a word without revealing why we knew what we did.

Changing tactics, Thurid moved to my father's side as if reporting, “Sekor Xor has killed several Tenth Cycle masters who were allied to you this day. He sent men to kill me. I assumed he was working for your daughter.”

The anger in my father’s voice was clear, “He was not, he tried to kill her too. Now stop this foolish notion that she is allied with those against me.”

That Sekor Xor was dead was good, he could not contradict or defend his name or to sow further discord in my father’s mind. But he also could not now counterbalance the plotting of Thurid.

My father continued, "Come we must prepare for his arrival; put aside your anger and fury for a time and unleash it if you must when he is close."

I smiled at the ploy. In my father's mind, if Thurid killed John Carter then there was no chance of him being considered a legitimate consort of Dejah Thoris. I knew Thurid had no chance of committing such a feat. But my father's obvious motivations were amusing to some small devious being hiding in my persona.

My father had devised a trap, one that would take John Carter’s foolish recklessness and make it a weakness. It also might take Thurid’s chance of gaining power through Dejah Thoris off the table at the same time.

While John Carter lived, Dejah Thoris was protected by unbreakable custom and law. Nothing could remove his claim except death. And Dejah Thoris's political value was only potential, not actual as long as he lived.

Today my father hoped to take care of that problem.

I doubted that the last part would succeed. I believed that no matter how foolish John Carter might be, he would find a way to turn any situation into some sort of advantage or at least find a way to escape it.

Thurid looked at the hostages, “Your daughter may be blameless but do we know these hostages did not in some way suborn those masters? We need to be extra careful with them, especially if John Carter is soon to be here. I say we put them in heavy chains to reduce their chances of escape.”

“If it will calm you down, then yes, call for chains.”

As we waited for the chains, my father, proud of his plans, shared some of them to fill the silence. I think to entertain Thurid and me with his brilliance and to torment our hostages with the thought of John Carter’s pending doom.

The summation of John Carter’s faults and how he would use them to trap and kill him, his voice full of satisfaction ended with, “We can be on our way just as soon as this is taken care of.”

My thoughts turn to where we were going. A place I had hoped to avoid by escaping below.

I knew our destination was a place of safety that the rest of Barsoom did not even know existed. A place protected and at the same time hidden by an unimaginably strong force. A place that was still totally loyal to the ancient religion of Issus and the therns her priests. Even though none of them would venture out of their land to take the trip down the River Iss. Depending always on death itself to deliver them to the promised land.

When the chains arrived, Dejah Thoris and Thuvia were bound with their hands before them, the heavy manacles and trailing chains weighing them down.

News that John Carter had finally entered the outer gate that had been left open for him and was now being escorted to the trap came. My heart leapt into my throat, and my stomach plummeted into my gut at the news. To see John Carter again brought so many mixed emotions, and to do so while in the presence of Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, Thurid, and my father reminded me of the tight rope I was walking, the parts in conflict within me, and all the competing objectives of each.

Even still, I hoped to convince John Carter to leave Dejah Thoris and take his place at my side, I did not want to hurt my sister, but she had a whole empire that would gladly fight and die for her, I had only guards and jailers. Or so I thought, I once again was dismissing those that had come to love me. I could not understand that love, it was still beyond my emotional scope and I still saw almost everything through the lens of personal advancement or advantage.

And at the bottom of it all, I still wanted John Carter for myself, I did not want to hurt my friends, but I did know what I wanted, and all the cultural assumptions of my society, all the prejudices, everything I was taught and absorbed was still there woven into the fabric of my being. I would unthinkingly betray my friends because that was the way of the thern, the ambition and status were all that was important.

-*=*-

It was a fight I would lose over and over again in the coming years, but it was a fight worth fighting. That it was mostly in my mind did not make it any less of a struggle, it made it more so. Over time and with practice, all I had been taught became less present, but it was never fully gone.

Only in waging that daily war within myself and confronting the contradictions, the lies, the whole rotten foundation of the religion of the Thern each day whenever it rose in my mind. The lessons that the red race was meant to serve and be served on a platter, that the only lives that mattered were those that had white skin and golden hair. If that hair was natural or a wig mattered not. All others were to be sacrificed to our substance and our comfort. That the therns place was at the top and must be supported by any means and in all things.

In this, the thern and the first born are similar. The only difference, to them, the color that mattered was black. The only purpose of all others was to serve them. And to eventually be served on the dinner table of the first born. I am sure Thurid continued to see the world through that lens without question or remorse.

The red race, being the result of a mix of all the ancient races, saw things differently. They did not, in principle, practice cannibalism or view others as racially inferior or superior. They did war and fight over the dwindling resources of the planet. They were almost constantly at war with one another and the green men, those creatures who had evolved from sapient creatures as the seas dried up.

I mention all this here as a way to explain if not excuse my behavior I am about to relate.

-*=*-

The rising tension brewing between my father and Thurid was dampened by the sound of the outer door to the tower’s courtyard being opened. We could just hear the guard’s words as he conducted John Carter to his impending doom. "Matai Shang is in the temple court beyond."


	56. Trap Sprung

**Trap Sprung**

We all heard the bang of the outer door quickly closing. We watched John Carter open the inner door and shade his eyes from the many torches set into the dark courtyard so that we could better watch his demise. The calot looked around and immediately focused on Dejah Thoris, the joy at sighting her plain in his excitement.

After scanning the courtyard, John Carter became aware of us. The top of the hanger tower looming a hundred meters above him, it had taken him a while to find and focus on us.

John Carter's face was plain to see as he became aware of the trap and his foolishness in trusting a thern. A cruel smile played about the lips of my father and his reluctant ally. I mimicked the smile feeling the familiar emotions that accompanied the facial expression spring up within my breast. The actual cruelty was clawing to get out. The actual unthinking and selfishly uncaring person of Phaidor, the daughter of the Holy Hekkador, master of life and death, was itching to make her appearance. Here was a true danger, which of me was in charge now? Which of me would get us through to safety, not only me but Dejah Thoris and Thuvia? To say I was confused internally would be putting it mildly. The tightrope was morphing into a noose.

As soon as he was sure John Carter had spotted us standing on the balcony of the central tower ten meters above his head Thurid reached out and caressed Dejah Thoris with a familiar hand. I had thought Thurid's insistence on chaining both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris with heavy cuffs and massive chains was a mistake, not only because it would slow us down if we needed to move quickly, but because he had never seen either of them wield similar bonds as weapons, the chains made excellent flails. Here he received a partial education in that mistake. Dejah Thoris turned on him the moment his hand touched her shoulder. Interlocking her fingers, she used the massive cuffs as a bludgeon to beat him off her.

The surprise on Thurid's face was quickly replaced by anger. He moved to strike Dejah Thoris down for her temerity at rejecting his touch. My father moved between them as the thern guards drew their short swords should Thurid forget himself and attack the Holy Hekkador.

The anger on both their faces was now directed at each other and not John Carter, who had taken in the whole picture. The uneasy truce, the alliance between the men was fragile at best. Only the need to escape the newly formed thern nation with its first Jedderra along with needing to escape the environs of Xodar the Jeddak of the first born stayed their hands and swords. Only the need to work together to achieve that end kept them together.

My father had the upper hand as the remaining guards were loyal to him. He made it plain that Dejah Thoris was his slave and not Thurid's. Thurid’s failed invasion and capture of the citadel was costing him now. All the thern he had suborned were lost to him along with the first born raiders somewhere in the tunnels below. Something must have happened to all of them. Why else would Thurid now be here, alone?

He was more at my father's mercy now than he had been with this day had started. But the same could be said of me. We had both lost in the battles below, and my father was still none the wiser at the change in the balance of power.

Turning back to John Carter far below us, thinking he and we were safe at this height, my father addressed him as if he were the one in chains. And not someone who was holding a wicked-looking long sword.

“Jasoomian, you have earned a more ignoble death than now lies within our weakened power to inflict upon you; but that the death you die tonight may be doubly bitter, know you that when you have passed, your widow becomes the wife of Matai Shang, Hekkador of the Holy Therns, for a Martian year.

"At the end of that time, as you know, she shall be discarded, as is the law among us, but not, as is usual, to lead a quiet and honored life as high priestess of some hallowed shrine. Instead, Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, shall become the plaything of my lieutenants--perhaps of thy most hated enemy, Thurid, the black dator."

I knew, and I suspected that John Carter did too, that Dejah Thoris would die of her own hand before any threat could be carried out. Dejah Thoris's life was tied to that of her nation and to her husband. That last bit of knowledge irked me. The Phaidor me. The daughter of the master of life and death me.

John Carter took in this news as if it meant nothing. I suspected then that John Carter was calculating his leap, who to deal with first and which route out of here would be quickest once he had control of his princess and Thuvia.

I also suspected he had deduced the best way to goad my father was to give him no response as if his threats were meaningless.

But here I was wrong, he had been thinking of better ways to express his disdain, and I suspect he was hoping to goad my father to anger, anger that might lead to a mistake.

Standing there dressed in the harness and accouterments of a Holy Thern of the tenth cycle, almost exactly as I had seen him when I first met him wearing the harness of Sator Throg. He looked every inch a thern. The wig, the diadem, the armor, and the swords, all jeweled and gleaming in the torchlight. Brilliant rays of light played along the facets of the gem centered on his forehead. He cut a fine figure in the eyes of all there except perhaps Thuvia, Dejah Thoris, and Thurid.

Now he did that which would enrage us all. Well, all of the therns. He removed the wig and the circlet containing the diadem that marked the rank of a Holy Thern of the Tenth Cycle. These he discarded in the dirt and dust that covered the flagstones of the courtyard. Then he wiped the bottom of his sandaled feet, removing the dirt and mud of his journey on the blond hair. Hair it had taken some daughter or wife years to grow. But he was not done. He then spat on the glittering jewel marking the highest-ranking thern short of the hekkador himself.

I watched the smile of pleasure spread across Thurid's face at the demonstration. Part of me was offended, part of me was feeling liberated, and part of me was watching the calculated insults of a man as he tried to provoke his enemies into making a mistake in their rage.

My father looked like he might have a stroke, but Thurid was not enraged, he was amused -- that was to be short-lived.

John Carter's voice then rang clear in the courtyard as he boasted, "And thus did I with the holies of Issus, Goddess of Life Eternal, ere I threw Issus herself to the mob that once had worshiped her, to be torn to pieces in her own temple."

The transformation on Thurid's face from amusement to anger was quick and quickly he turned to my father “Let us have an end to this blaspheming!"

Now my father's secret plan was finally put into motion. How to kill John Carter without striking the actual blow.

The call to feast rose from his lips as he leaned over the balcony in the manner of the calls to the plant men and the white apes in the Valley Dor. Here he was calling beasts to do his dirty work, but what beasts could be here, the plant men would not last long here without the trees and grasses of the valley to feed on and the white apes were too big and too wild to tame. Maybe the first born dator had brought in apes from the temple?

"Let loose the death!" he cried to hidden servants.

A dozen doors opened below us, and I was curious to see if it was plant men or apes. But no, it was a dozen banths of the lower pits of the thern temples that sprang into the courtyard looking starved and ready to kill.

I felt more than saw the excitement radiating from Thuvia, who stood slightly behind me. In all the scuffle between Dejah Thoris and Thurid, she had moved out of the way of the swinging chains and retaliatory strike that never landed due to my father's intervention, she had stepped away from the immediate vicinity of the guards and was now largely forgotten by all on the balcony.

The banths had paused, getting their bearings and letting their eyes grow accustomed to the glaring torches lining the courtyard.

I saw John Carter look up and searching the faces of those on the balcony until he found the face he was looking for, Dejah Thoris. A hand of jealousy reached inside my chest then and squeezed hard. None of the rest of us existed, not Thuvia, not me. He only had eyes for Dejah Thoris as he was about to die. Our own avowed feelings for him meant nothing not even a brief smile or nod. The internal, and I suspected eternal, war within my soul erupted. The hurt pushed hard in the direction of a protective indifference.

I felt the old familiar haughty mask settle across my face. An uncaring existence settled into my heart. If he were to die today, so be it. If we were to die today, that would be fine too. I followed his gaze to where Dejah Thoris stood now with her heavily manacled arms outstretched towards the man she loved. The yearning on her face to hold the man she had only seen briefly half a year ago. The brief moment in the midst of now six long years of absence. Five years without knowing if he was alive or dead, another year wondering where he was and what he was doing.

The guards were concentrating on restraining Dejah Thoris. I believe she might be thinking of leaping into the courtyard to meet the same fate as her husband. It would satisfy her soul if at least they were together at the end. She might have had a point, as it was, she was in the hands of her enemies. She could only look forward to finding a way to kill herself if John Carter fell to the banths today.

The dozen beasts soon enough spotted their meal standing in the center of the courtyard. A cacophony arose as each roared a threat to their prey and a warning to each other that the meal was theirs. Usually, the sound was enough to freeze most prey in fear. But I saw both the calot and John Carter ready themselves. The banths slowly advancing, the struggling form of Dejah Thoris drawing the attention of the guards away from everyone else. As Dejah Thoris watched the banths draw near John Carter, she turned her head. She could not bear to watch her husband being mauled and killed.

Now before anyone noticed or could react Thuvia, who had kept quiet and slipped further away from the guard’s reach stepped forward and leaned over the rail so that she was clearly visible to the banths below. John Carter's eyes became fixed on Thuvia standing at the rail, a puzzled expression on his face.

I saw him gather himself as if to make a jump, only Dejah Thoris, who was now not looking, Thuvia, and I knew that he could easily make that jump. But with a quick glance at the calot, he readied himself to sell their lives dearly. I was puzzled. Why did he not jump? Surely the calot was not more important than Dejah Thoris? Or was it? My brain started to hurt at the impractical mind of the man. If staying and dying with the beast was preferable to fighting for and perhaps saving the avowed love of his life. Why did he hesitate?


	57. One Man Army

**One Man Army**

Keeping my eyes on John Carter, I notice when his own become fixed on Thuvia. Thuvia? Looking her way, I see that she had worked her way to the edge of the balcony, a place where she is plainly visible to all below, including the banths. In an instant, I realize her plan.

The cloak of indifference that had settled around me allowed for curiosity. I watched as the excitement began to build in Thuvia. She had realized the solution my father had devised for dealing with John Carter. If banths killed him, then the Holy Hekkador would be free to marry Dejah Thoris. In marrying her, he would gain the empire of Helium. Of course, that solution also allowed Thurid to do the same should that opportunity present itself.

I had seen Thuvia in arenas, and other venues, provide entertainment via her display of control over beasts just the same as these. That my father had either not remembered or in his arrogance had dismissed the red slave as unimportant, he had used the one beast, the only beast, susceptible to control by one of his enemies.

I knew she would do the same here. Curious, I waited to see what would happen. While the hopelessness of my unrequited love for John Carter had hardened me, it did not complete the job. There was still a core of concern for Dejah Thoris, Thuvia, and of course myself. I could not risk spoiling her plan, but at the same time, I could not appear to be supporting it either.

These thoughts and emotions appeared to be someone else as I felt them. I felt that in some way, I was outside my body observing these thoughts and feelings. I watched myself watching Thuvia.

As her voice broke out into the strange purring sound with undertones that vibrated one's bones, all heads turned to her in astonishment and in the case of my father, a realization too late.

The banths roared their recognition of the red woman on the balcony above and almost seemed to be saying, what would you have of us. The startled guards had been concentrating on Dejah Thoris. Realizing their mistake now leapt to drag Thuvia back to silence her. But she quickly hurled commands at the beasts below. Her last words, before they succeeded in silencing her, were "You need not fear them now, John Carter! Those banths will never harm you now, nor Woola, either."

The banths had all turned around and reentered their dens where they lay down to take a rest watching the two in the center of the courtyard with a hungry look but faithful to their mistress.

Immediately John Carter took a short run and sprang to catch the railing and was soon headed our way.

Returning to my body, I kept my face as impassive as I could. I looked for ways to foil my father’s plan but leave open a route to me being the only one able to take John Carter’s hand. No plan presented itself that did not hurt either Thuvia or Dejah Thoris. I would have to wait and watch, take what opportunity presented itself.

Thurid sprang at John Carter with a drawn sword to cut him down before he gained a good purchase on the ledge. But Dejah Thoris, now free of the guards who were currently beating Thuvia senseless, was closest to him and still in chains. She grabbed the chains, and using them as a flail, used them to great effect as she beat the dator away from her husband.

As John Carter gained his footing, my father grabbed Dejah Thoris round the waist from behind, lifting her bodily, he dragged her through the door into the tower. John Carter was bowling through the guards who had rushed to meet him with blood in his eye.

I stood still, my eyes now on Thurid. I watched him calculate his chances alone with John Carter as most of my father’s guards were following my father into the tower as was their duty.

They left Thuvia behind, unconscious and bleeding from a cut that had opened up on her forehead. She looked to be intact, breathing, blood still flowing across her face and into her hair spread across the stones of the balcony floor. That blood was still flowing was a good sign.

Turning my attention to the scene playing out along the balcony, I saw the moment Thurid must have realized that Dejah Thoris was solely in the hands of my father and that my father was even now likely headed to the flier with his prize.

John Carter had finished the guards that had initially rushed him. Thurid and a few others were left between John Carter and the doorway to the tower. I think my father was counting on losing at least one of his rivals by taking Dejah Thoris and leaving them to take care of each other. Either Thurid managed to kill John Carter, or John Carter would kill Thurid, and my father would be rid of one of his problems.

That I was also in the way, along with a small number of guards that had been assigned to my protection, did not seem to enter my father's mind.

Thurid, seeing the situation and knowing his chances, quickly turned and left before John Carter could make the rush that would have ended him then and there. I was all that was left between John Carter and his prize.

I had watched the panicked reactions of both my father and Thurid and knew they were not worthy of my friend, Dejah Thoris. But I had to make one last try at my own happiness and thinking back to the conversation in the bath and her thoughts on the subject. I could still win a world with a child of John Carter’s as my own. In that dream of a world, I could do much for those who had suffered so much at my father's hands. If I were very lucky, I could have both John Carter and either a son or daughter with strength and agility only matched by Carthoris.

I stood there behind the rank of the guards that had been assigned to my protection. I told two of them to pick up Thuvia and take her unconscious form and follow the rest. I was worried that if I left her, she might be forgotten by John Carter as he single-mindedly followed the Princess of Helium all the rest of the world be damned. She might once again find herself a slave of the thern. Here at the fortress without her friends for any kind of protection.

I told the rest of my guard to keep John Carter from following, then I looked at him across their heads, wondering if I could make one last plea for a world with me at the center of his regard.

"John Carter, for the last time I offer you the love of Phaidor, daughter of the Holy Hekkador. Accept and your princess shall be returned to the court of her grandfather, and you shall live in peace and happiness. Refuse and the fate that my father has threatened shall fall upon Dejah Thoris. You cannot save her now, for by this time they have reached a place where even you may not follow. Refuse and naught can save you; for, though the way to the last stronghold of the Holy Therns was made easy for you, the way hence hath been made impossible. What say you?"

"You knew my answer, Phaidor, before ever you spoke,” was his response as I knew it would be. But I had had to try even though it was hopeless. Nevertheless, hope was all I had at that moment.

Turning away at the answer both to hide my wounded pride and my wounded heart, I made my way after my father, Thurid, Thuvia, and Dejah Thoris, who now I would not hurt in any way, never again would I try to take the heart that belonged to her. My mission was now the same as John Carter's, rescue the princess.

The shouted warning of "Make way, for John Carter, Prince of Helium, would pass!" rang in my ears as the sounds of swords clashing came to my ears and a few tears leaked from the corner of my eyes.

I reached the hidden panel at the entrance to the spiral runway. I triggered the mechanism to open the portal. I left the door open for either my guards to retreat up the ramp or for John Carter to follow and rescue the princess.

I would give him one last chance to catch us before we reached the large flier already packed, provisioned, and fueled for our journey to the far north.

But as I passed through that door, I saw Thurid's leering face appear out of the dark corner. He triggered the door to close it behind me. Then he jammed the point of his dagger into the mechanism wrecking it beyond repair before sheathing the blade. The secret of the combination to open the door would have been enough to deter John Carter. But this bully had to wreck the mechanism to add that final insurance.

“I have guardsmen on the other side of that door. I would have made their passage easier." My anger and frustration gave my voice power and an edge.

“Those guardsmen are as good as dead by now. Three thern have no chance against him as has been demonstrated time and time again.”

“I suppose you think only a first born could beat him in a fight.” was my taunt.

"Come along, your father is waiting. We will be out of here just as soon as you're aboard. I would have left without you, but your father insists."

So, he had reached my father, and he had sent him back to get me. Well, better late than never. I was surprised my father had thought of me at all. But why had he sent Thurid back? Maybe to have another chance of his two problems meeting? Was that the real reason?

I was leaving the thern fortress to its fate at the hands of John Carter. I wondered who would win, the fortress full of thern warriors, or the lone jasoomian.

Thurid leading the way, I followed him up the ramp as it wound its way to the top. The ramp did not stay to the outside of the tower. Or the interior core, it meandered up the tower in an almost haphazard fashion. There was one window along the way. As I passed that window, I looked out at the Valley of Lost Souls. I felt lost myself. I would never find a place for myself in this world.

I should just join the poor devils below in the valley and have done with all this strife, but I knew that was foolish, for the warring tribes of the valley knew nothing but strife. My plans of an armed and large party of warriors and freed slaves had been dashed in the clashes below the citadel. Dashed in part by the very man who was leading me to my father and then away from this place.

"Why haven't we boarded yet?" were the first words out of Thurid's mouth as he saw my father waiting for him in the lounge just below the hanger deck. I looked around and saw Dejah Thoris tending to Thuvia, who was still unconscious. She did not look around, her attention solely on her friend.

“We are almost ready to leave, there was a mechanical problem with the flier you provided, and we await its repair. I also wanted to make sure my daughter reached safety. Your assurances of her reaching me were - shall we say less than convincing."

The underlying fear of both men was plain to my ear but they worked hard to ignore the other's trepidation. In addition, the arrogance of centuries of rule for both provided confidence that everything would, in the end, work out for them. It always had to this point, and why would things change now?

My father's words still hanging in the air rang hollow in my breast. Instead of the warmth and protection, they were intended to engender I could not help but think about the way he had bolted at the first sign of trouble and that he had grabbed Dejah Thoris, the prize of Helium in his sights, and did not until now express concern for his own daughter. And why did he leave Thurid behind to deal with me if I made it to the hidden portal?

“We need to hurry, if he manages to defeat the three guardsmen Phaidor left to slow him he could be here any moment.” Thurid's voice was calm and steady but there was an urgency to be away in it too.

“Patience, we will soon take on the last load of fuel and a delicacy or two to enjoy along the way. Besides, he can never solve the secret of that lock. Let us proceed to the hangar above that we may be far to the south before he finds another way, should that be possible."

"All things seem possible to that vile calot," spat Thurid.

The assembled party started making its way up the ramp to the roof. Dejah Thoris and Thuvia who now though unsteady on her feet were lead away along with the other last-minute baggage and two delicacies in the form of young red maids were loaded. At the sight of them if felt an urgent need to throw up and my gut twisted. I felt powerless and hopeless and defeated.

I started up the final ramps to the rooftop where the few fliers were stored and the large flier we were to take north took up most of the center of the roof.

My father continued gathering his silks to follow me “Then let us haste, but to be doubly sure, I will leave two who shall patrol this roof. Later they may follow us upon another flier and overtaking us at Kaol."

We reached the roof quickly but were still waiting for the last of the fuel to be loaded, it had been unloaded to affect the repair, now those engines were to make an extraordinarily long journey and extra fuel tanks had been fastened to the side of the flier, the tanks could be jettisoned as they emptied leaving the interior space for cargo and treasure. You may wonder that the extra weight of the fuel would reduce the lifting capacity of the flier, but each tank was double-walled, the space between walls was filled with the wonderful eighth ray that provides lift to all fliers, the tanks even full were practically weightless, oh they retained their inertia and were hard to push or stop once pushed but they did not add to the weight being lifted by the tanks of the flier itself. Once emptied they were punctured by the release mechanism so that the tank would slowly fall to the ground below instead of lifting to space. The skies would be cluttered with tiny moons if the tanks were not dropped and sometimes recovered to be used again.

Dejah Thoris and Thuvia were already aboard and housed in my small cabin where I would join them once we were underway. I had insisted on keeping them with me, and I think my father thought of me as insurance that Thurid would not just take the princess and run away himself.

But I think Thurid thought the same, as long as the women were with me they wouldn't be with his rival. For rivals they were, Rivals with a common enemy, but what would happen when the common enemy was once and for all certainly dealt with?

We would soon be ready to leave. I wanted to get some fresh air before the likely isolation of my cabin during the journey. I climbed on board to fetch both Dejah Thoris and Thuvia. Thuvia was recovered enough from her altercation with fists and the pommel of a sword. Both agreed to take some air before we departed. Thuvia still a little unsteady on her feet but eager to walk around a bit before our long journey.

First, Dejah Thoris and I looked at the nasty bump forming on Thuvia's skull where she had been struck unconscious. She seemed no worse for wear; she must have a particularly thick skull. Taking their chains, which had not yet been removed, we made our way to the deck. Then to the roof of the hanger to stroll about. We watched as the hatches along the side of the ship take in the last of the cargo.

Once everything was buttoned up, we returned to the deck. None bothered us. All were too busy to notice, or they did not care that we were about our own business.

We stood on the deck as the last of the crew boarded. The two men left to guard the rooftop patroled the peremiter and would do so until we were safely away. Thurid was just about to board when John Carter made another appearance. His arrival was both a welcome and unwelcome sight depending on one’s point of view.

The first I knew of his presence was Dejah Thoris's warning cry as Thurid had also spotted him and was advancing on the man hanging by his fingertips. I could see he was trying to gain a strong foothold to help hurl himself onto the roof, but Thurid arrived and kicked him in the face before he could manage that.

John Carter toppled backward and out of sight. My heart fell as I am sure Dejah Thoris's and Thuvia's did too.

I waved at Thurid to join us and let my impatience to be away show plain on my face. I was ready to depart this confining place for many reasons. If John Carter was truly gone, I did not want to see it. I did not want Dejah Thoris to see it either. If he were, as I suspected, only clinging to the tower below. Then I did not want Thurid to see that and have an opportunity to finish the job. I immediately reached out and grabbed both Thuvia's and Dejah Thoris's chains to prevent them from running and looking.

The hurt looks on each of their faces turned to understanding at about the same time. I knew there were plenty of protuberances along the fall to catch harness, silk, or fur. I suspected that even if he fell most of the way, his fall would have been slowed by these. But more importantly, we all had reason to believe he might survive in any case. We each had at one time or another seen him bound, leap, and jump, his body was of sterner stuff than a typical barsoomian, his reflexes a touch quicker, and his agility impressive to all who witnessed it. He might survive an impact if the fall were not too great. With the acceleration of gravity on Barsoom being one third that of his native planet, his velocity at impact would be much lower than that on his native planet, perhaps low enough to keep him alive. In addition, his reflexes and agility should be enough to allow him to use a tether on his harness to catch one or more projections to catch or slow his descent. I watched a flicker of hope come and go on each face and I know they saw the same flash across my face as we stood looking at each other. I schooled my face into a cold and uncaring mask once again and jerking on their chains to bring us all back into character.

“Come, hurry father, let us leave this horrid filthy place at once.”

The look in his eye told me he knew I was asking to take off before Thurid could regain the deck.

"Yes, lift-off at once, we are ready."

Thurid still occupied with seeing what might have happened to John Carter, suddenly turned and sprinted for the lifting airship. He had caught the command to depart and knew what was intended, he knew I had instigated the action. I only hoped his retribution would not be too terrible. Either fortunately or unfortunately, he made it to the bottom rung of the boarding ladder just as it was about to be out of his reach.

I had succeeded in one thing. I had kept Thurid from looking over the side of the stone tower. The ship was now over the opposite side and headed away from the mountain keep. If John Carter survived, he now had a good chance of making the roof and taking one of the few smaller fliers in pursuit.

I led Dejah Thoris and Thuvia to the far side of the flier's deck. Turning, we watch Thurid made his way onto the flier.

“Dator Thurid, I am so glad that you decided to join us on our journey north. I don't know what we would do without you." my voice low and controlled and without a hint of sarcasm. My father looked at me and smiled, perhaps the first real smile ever directed at me from him.

I smiled back. And still holding the ‘slaves’ chains, I turned to look over the side of the boat as we started our journey. We were just passing over the trail that leads down into the valley. Soon we would be across the valley and flying over the fields of ice and snow toward the north and the unknown.

I looked back at the citadel I had become so familiar with. I had roamed it at will. I felt like I belonged there. Looking down into the ravine that held the path that provided access to the valley below, I noticed something.

We three froze where we stood. Looking down, a most unexpected and bittersweet sight met our eyes in the gathering gloom at the end of the day. A sight each of us was determined to keep away from all aboard this flier.

A long line of people was descending into the valley. And the predominant colors among them were blue, yellow, and at this distance, teal. I even thought I saw a large man being carried on a stretcher, a man whose lower left leg was missing. My heart skipped a beat. I wondered if the large blonde woman keeping pace with him was someone whose presence I had left only a few zodes ago.

Announcing to the world, “I am tired, and all this running around has covered me in dirt. Slaves, come and take care of cleaning me up, I cannot stand this grime one more second.”

With that, I lead Dejah and Thuvia below to the tiny cabin that I had been assigned. As we settled into my small space, each playing our part for any passing set of eyes and ears, I felt the flier pick up speed and make its way north.


	58. Second Flight

**Second Flight**

We stood at the rail until the valley had passed below us and only featureless white ice was to be seen in every direction. The air was cold, made colder still by the wind of our passage.

But the chill I felt was not only from the temperature of the air. There was a chill in my heart and in my guts. How had John Carter come to be in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time? Was that a special talent of his? Was he both the luckiest and unluckiest man at the same time? His appearance at the edge of the tower just as we were departing might have been a good thing if he had managed to make it before Thurid, by some unknown instinct, turned to discover him.

Had John Carter managed to either catch himself on one of the protuberances that studded the tower? Or maybe the drop was not deadly to a man of Jasoom. I had to believe that he was alive. That he would be but a few meters down the side of the tower. Clinging there.

We three were underdressed for the climate we now found ourselves in and I felt Thuvia stir out of whatever revere she had entered looking out at the empty white. She didn’t say anything, but I somehow knew she was cold and wanted to find somewhere warmer.

This was only my second time flying, and only my third flier. And, by far, this was the strangest airship I had been on or even seen. I looked about the deck. Passages were descending into the interior body fore, middle, and aft. There was a cabin toward the bow where the pilot and navigator operated the ship. There were, like the ten-man flier that had taken me to my captivity, guns mounted fore and aft. But that was the extent of its projective armament.

Still holding the chains of the two red women I turned to find my way inside when I noticed my father standing a few paces behind us. How long had he been there? What was he seeing? A mistress and her two slaves, or a daughter betraying her father?

“There are only four cabins on this boat. It was a bomber in the navy of the First Born at one time. The property of Thurid’s house. I have taken the largest room for my use. Thurid had taken the next. Your things have been stored in one of the two smaller cabins and you’ll have to share it with the hostages. I will have someone escort you there and keep an eye on the hostages.”

Why had he volunteered this information?

My father motioned to an officer in his guard to approach. I looked around and noticed he was the lowest ranking person in sight. Were there no actual rank and file warriors on this journey?

“Take my daughter and these two slaves to her cabin. Keep them there until I release them. You may answer any question my daughter has but you will not leave their door, keep all out, keep them safe, do not let any inside. That includes Thurid specifically. I will tell you when they can roam the boat.”

He saluted and motioned me to follow him. Thuvia and Dejah Thoris, still in chains, had no choice but to follow me as I set out after him. He leads us to the middle passageway and started down the narrow corridor. A corridor made narrower by the strung up hammocks of sleeping thern. The diadem of the Tenth Cycle gleamed in the center of the headband on all of them. These were men I did not know. They must have been recently elevated to the rank, very recently.

“What is in the bomb bays if this was once a fighting ship of the First Born,” I ask the high-ranking officer who was now my father’s lowest ranking follower.

“This flier is packed with the Holy Hekkador's office, the knowledge and methods of communicating with the remaining thern temples throughout the world and the objects of office made of gold and jewels and the priceless stones mined only in the Golden Cliffs surrounding the Valley Dor. It is what your father needs to continue his office of Holy Hekkador.”

“What about food, water? Those things actually needed for survival?”

“We have enough to get to our first stop on the journey where we will resupply before heading to our destination. We will need fuel there more than rations. This flier has been equipped with extra fuel tanks, but they will not get us all the way there.”

Looking at the warriors bunked along the center aisle of the boat on makeshift hammocks I said, “Are these warriors along the center passage all that have been allowed to come?”

“There are twenty thern of the Tenth Cycle who will guard your father until better arrangements can be made in Okar.”

“And you? Are you the only one lower ranked than the Tenth Cycle?”

“Yes.”

I was puzzled, and it must have shown on my face.

“What use is being of the Tenth Cycle” he continued, “if there are none lower than you to order about? And besides, I’m the best swordsman here, that might sound like a boast, but it is not. Someone has to be able to actually fight.”

He smiled at me. It was a warm and friendly smile and one that seemed to say he knew and approved of my trick with Thurid earlier. That he knew and approved of my plans for the princesses. That he knew and approved of me.

My mind must be playing tricks. I knew that could not be true. It was an odd sensation. Of knowing something that just could not be true. But in all ways, my being felt it to be so.

He opened the door to a small cabin, there was one bed along the opposite wall, two portholes just above it. There was no other furniture, no place to sit or work. No place to take care of bodily functions. My pile of belongings arranged on either side of the door into the room.

He entered turned and seeing the look on my face he almost laughed. Almost, instead, he started demonstrating the fold-down table, chairs in one wall, and on the other side a panel that hid a tiny washroom with all the facilities needed. That one could barely stand in the closet necessitated that the panel was open while conducting business.

“This was meant to house only one person. Privacy will be absent for you three.”

-=+=-

Most of the evening and all night we flew at the best speed the small bomber now transport could make.

Just as the light broke through our porthole as the sun jumped over the horizon, we heard a report of one of the guns on deck. I was already awake and at the startled but not confused looks on my companions' faces I assumed they had not slept any better than I had. The three of us crammed onto the bed meant for one. It was a tight fit. And we were still exhausted.

“Who or what could we be firing on,” Thuvia asked? The fear in her eyes told me who she thought it would be.

Dejah Thoris smiled, “He always seems to find a way. Never assume he is dead, not until you see his body before you, lifeless. And even then, he may find a way to cheat death.”

“Stay here, I’ll check what is going on.”

Opening the door, I see the guard’s broad back before me.

"I hear it too he said without turning. Stay close to me. We'll check it out. Try not to be seen. I would like to live a little longer."

With that, he headed to the deck, not even looking back to see if I was following.

I did as he asked, his life more at risk if my father discovered us disobeying his orders. He was doing me a favor. Again, unasked, and unexplained, someone took my needs and made them their own. It was at this point in my life I really noticed and started wondering. Had this happened before, had I had people my whole life looking after me? Taking care of me? Dying for me?

We reached to point where we could look out to the stern gun and beyond. Keeping out of sight as best I could, I watched the lone small flier following us. Thurid taking aim on the pursuing flier.

The plan had been that the guards left on the rooftop would follow us on that flier. I wondered why Thurid felt the need to fire on them. It was then that I heard him exclaim to my approaching father, “John Carter and the calot are on that flier and not our guards. The calot is easy to spot even at this distance using the telescopic sights. Even if the details aren't clear there was no doubt that it is John Carter on that flier.”

My heart skipped a beat with joy and fear, my ruse as we left had been rewarded, but would that victory be short-lived? Would John Carter only survive that fall to meet his fate on the deck of an exploding flyer?

I knew John Carter did not dare fire his own bow-mounted gun for fear of hurting Dejah Thoris, I hoped that Thuvia and I played some small part in his hesitance to fire. I watched hidden in the pilothouse cabin as Thurid fired shot after shot and finally hit the pursuing craft. I was relieved to see that it did not disintegrate as sometimes happened, but the bow had been badly damaged and that the lifting tanks were leaking was obvious. The shot must have also damaged the engine as the propeller pushing the craft froze and the stricken craft started a long last dive to the ground.

I did not see any bodies come free of the craft so the whole thing would end up buried in the soft ground many feet below. I noticed the craft was not falling as rapidly as was usual when all buoyancy had been lost, so some of the tanks must have still held.

Thurid must have noticed the same because he switched the gun to automatic fire and followed the falling craft down with shot after shot. As we watched, I saw John Carter's body fall to the end of his tether and sway as a dead man below the descending craft. My heart went to my throat, and a stinging sensation in my eyes surprised me. Was he really dead? Had he finally fallen to Thurid's gun? Thurid certainly thought so as he stopped firing. I watched for a time as the damaged flier sank towards the ground, there to disappear into the forest which boundaries we had crossed during the incident. To call it a fight was not in the least possible. Only Thurid had been firing, John Carter may as well have been defenseless when his wife was on board the craft he pursued.

With a heavy heart, I followed the warrior back to the cabin to report what I had seen. Both Thuvia and I were heartbroken, but then Dejah Thoris raised her head and stated that she did not believe he was dead. She just did not feel it in her bones. She knew he had to be alive, that somehow, he was either unconscious in his harness, or he had played a ruse to fool Thurid into stopping his fusillade. Taking some small hope from Dejah Thoris's worlds, we resumed looking out our small windows on the world below.

Out of our portholes in our small cabin, I watched in wonder as the jungle of a forest below passed beneath us. Dejah Thoris would look from time to time and tell me the names of those plants and animals she recognized.

A mighty wind at some time in the past had felled a few trees. In that clearing, we could see the glint of the sun off the water that covered most of the floor of the woods. And in that clearing, we could see an ocean of yellow ferns and fronds blowing in the breeze revealing the purple stalks holding the broad leaves and dangling strands far above the glinting dark waters below.

The edge of the clearing revealed many carnivorous plants growing in the shade of the immensely tall trees. The diet of plentiful insect life and smaller creatures we could see flitting about and scurrying along the few red patches of solid ground would be needed to keep that many “man-flower” and calot trees alive. The sight of those sent a shiver down my spine as I watched a small creature captured by a calot tree shredded into small pieces before disappearing down the various jaws that had managed to attach themselves to the hapless creature.

Dejah Thoris was a great source of information on what we saw as she was highly respected in the halls of science in Helium for her knowledge of biology. Her presence in the atmospheric expedition those many years ago when she first met John Carter as a captive of the Thark hordes was not as some sightseeing royal. She had been the lead scientist. Studying the variations of the flora and fauna encountered in their travels as they drifted charting the air currents. More than once during our captivity in the Temple of the Sun had I heard her mourn for the scientists and technicians that Helium had lost that day.

Once, we saw a large and fierce creature that even Dejah Thoris did not recognize or even have an educated guess which of the many families of creatures they might belong to. The glimpse provided an impression of large multifaceted eyes at the end of stalks. These searching its surroundings in the dim light of the forest so that the large talons and large jaws lined with sharp rending teeth could do their jobs and provide a suitable meal for such a large beast. It was crawling through the swamp, or maybe it needed the water to help buoy its great body.

I kept watching Dejah Thoris for signs that she mourned her husband and I saw none. I wondered again at the limited telepathy of the red race. Did it extend to an ability to know when a loved one died? The older original races of Barsoom rarely exhibited the talent and usually, it was dismissed as superstition. We thern and I supposed the first born had to come to terms with the evidence of the red race's abilities. Once, during our long incarceration in the Temple of the Sun, Thuvia told me that the green race also had the ability. That it provided them limited communication with their wild beasts and with the red men.

Dejah Thoris's speaking softly as she looked out the porthole returned me to the present. "I would like to mount an expedition into that jungle below. What wonders must be hiding there in the shade of that forest canopy? The land of Kaol is dangerous. None but the bravest hunt for a few yards into that jungle. Many have gone, and none that have ventured far have returned. In addition to the wild beasts and wilder plants, the land of Kaol is inhabited by an insular and fierce people who distrust almost all strangers. It is almost sure suicide to venture there uninvited.”

Here Thuvia spoke up and said, "Almost all outsiders are considered an enemy. Only the city-state of Ptarth is welcome. I have met the Jeddak of Kaol.”

All of us gave a start as Thurid said, “That is good to know.” I had not heard him open the door behind us as the three of us had our heads together, watching the trees below. How long had he been standing there watching us? Did he suspect that I was not as hardhearted towards our captives as I appeared to be at all other times?

“We will have to keep you hidden from the Jeddak and any of his high-ranking officers that might have seen you, I think we will need to keep you all hidden as much as possible.”

“What business do you have here?” I asked in the coldest and most formal tone. I stood facing the raider and the others fell in behind me as good slaves should. Where was our guard? How had Thurid entered? Then I saw the body. Immediately I knew I must be the cause of his death. I kept my face impassive, but my heart was breaking at yet another death at the hands of the murderous first born. Only the unseen support of the two behind kept me on my feet and my head held high, no sign of distress at the senseless death.

"We are approaching the city. Make ready to depart. You have only yourselves to worry about, but given what I just heard, please veil all your faces. We can put the two slaves in chains, but the trip down the watchtower is treacherous and best done with free hands and no chance of hanging yourself. I understand there are lifts most of the way, but there are also places set up for defense should any take the top of the tower. Those are difficult to navigate in the best circumstances. Phaidor, be careful, these are cunning women and used to power, they can be charming and manipulative and might bring about your ruin should you listen to them too much.”

I just stared at the man until he dropped his eyes, turned, and left.

All three of us let out little puffs of air as we released the breath we all had been holding there at the end.

“We need to be more aware of our surroundings, Thurid suspects.” was all I said very quietly. My sorrow hidden, I mourned the unnamed warrior who I suspected was now being tossed over the side of the ship.


	59. The Jungle Palace

**Kaol**

**The Jungle Palace**

Late in the day, we arrived over our destination. We took one pass over the city to signal our arrival and to give us a chance to look over our way station.

On our approach to the city, the clearest indication of its presence was the strip of deforested land surrounding the city’s walls and the lone tower rising far above the tree canopy. But for that outline and the tall single spire protruding above the foliage, there were no other obvious indications that there was anything different about this part of the jungle forest.

As I watched, I noticed a set of flags being raised and lowered in what appeared to be a set sequence. I was to later learn these were in response to flags on our own ship. Communication had begun. Our flags signaling our identity, our intent, and our invitation by the Jeddak of Kaol. The flags below indicating where, when, and how we were to arrive.

We descend, approaching the city cautiously, the open space just outside the city walls clear in the mid-afternoon sun. I wondered why we were not landing just outside a gate and walking in. When I broached the subject with the captain of the flyer later, he told me that the Kaolians had informed him that would be unsafe. I did not know until a day or so later that the danger came from some of the citizens themselves.

Thuvia, being familiar with the city decided to give us some information about our home for the next few days. Pointing at the barely noticeable dip in the tree cover she said, "That is the only road in and out of this kingdom. If you look at the wall, you can see the massive main gate."

Thuvia, looking at the city peeking through the trees below us, “There are other cities hidden throughout the jungles of Kaol, but this is the capital. It is the only city with a road to the outside world. They are isolated from all but one other red nation. That nation is connected by that one road out of the forest. That road leads to Ptarth. My native land. It has been a very long time since I was last here.”

I noticed the walls followed an irregular path, “Thuvia, why is the wall not a square or circle?”

“The walls follow the outline of the top of a hill. The city sits wholly on that hill along with the cleared area you see. The hill’s rise allows the city to sit on firm and dryer ground. But the trees, tapping into the groundwater all around the city, grow just as tall as the surrounding jungle. It is the same with the other cities in the empire. All are well protected by the trees. To try to land anything larger than the smallest flier would be disastrous. And that would have to be done with the greatest caution, weaving in and out of the interlaced branches of the trees.”

She continued, “The avenues and gardens of the cities are full of plants and flowers that have not been seen anywhere else on Barsoom for eons. This is a strange and wonderful world hidden from sight. A place in the constant shade of the tall trees. Only here and there do the variably intense rays of the sun penetrate to the ground. As the sun moves, these dappled patterns crawl along the ground and cover the walls with constantly changing shapes and shade. The effect is magical and soothing.

“None of the buildings are immensely tall and all are built-in and around the trees. There is water in this vast basin at the equator and here many varieties of exotic fruits and plants grow in the shade of the insulating giants. None of the red nation's waterways connect with this empire. Kaol has no need of the waters pumped from the ice caps. Kaol is self-sufficient.

“In addition to the impenetrable swamps to deter visitors, there are stories of fierce flying creatures and other carnivorous beasts that roam the forest. Even the most adventurous hunter does not venture more than few hundred meters at the edge of the forest. Only the Kaolian's know the ways of the terrain and they do hunt and gather and farm in a few places but even they keep mostly out of the woods unless they are part of a large hunting party.

“I have heard it is a mark of passage for the young to venture into the woods with these hunting parties and there are stories of more than one not returned. They, having been unwary enough to be grabbed by a calot tree or some fearsome beast, are never seen again.

“The jungle swamps around the cities are barriers in and of themselves, add the beasts and carnivorous plants and the task became almost impossible. The cost of conquering Kaol would be great for any nation, and worse many would die ignoble deaths in the jungle against foes both beast and plant before they even reached the cities.”

Dejah Thoris spoke up, “Kaol is protected as much by reverence for the woods as what is found in them. Never would a Barsoomian consider destroying the forest jungle as a way to conquer this empire. To do so on our dying planet would draw the wrath of every civilized nation and even the enmity of the green hoards. Water, trees, and that that sheltered there are, to many, more sacred than even their firmest held faith in Issus.

Thuvia nodded, “I cannot count on a warm welcome even if I were discovered by the citizens or the Jeddak of Kaol.” Thuvia’s voice sounded almost distant and lost in thought. I look over at her and catch the distracted face of someone lost in deep thought. “They are an extremely conservative people, prone to hang on to ancient ways. They will be most fervent in their beliefs in Issus and her priests the therns. As I once was.”

"As I was too," said Dejah Thoris and I in unison. We smiled at each other and motioned Thuvia to continue.

“That they know of my journey to join my mother must be assumed. No! I am sure. Ptarth is the only ally that Kaol has. My father and the Jeddak are extremely close. I assume they will have grown closer as they are both in the same situation now. Neither has any surviving royal women to smooth the passage of the royal lines.”

“How could you have left your nation in such a state?” Dejah Thoris’s voice was sharp and disapproving.

"I did not. When I left there were two cousins who could carry the line forward. I learned from other slaves during my time in the Valley Dor of their deaths before producing any girls of their own. I am the last now, but I wasn’t when I departed on my journey.”

“So, Helium, Ptarth, and Kaol are all in turmoil due to the female lines ether having or almost halving died out?” I asked.

“It would seem so.” Thuvia’s whisper was barely loud enough to be heard.

The concern on both the princesses' faces told me they were worried about their homelands. Their people.

“Even more reason to free you two, have the ancient law condemning those returning from the Valley Dor abolished and restoring the royal lines to your cities.”

The determination in my voice surprised even me. The started looks on my companions' faces told me they were surprised I seemed to feel so strongly.

Answering the unasked question.

“I am tired of death and destruction. If I can help your homelands prevent civil wars, I will. We need to free you one way or another. I know Carthoris rules in Helium now. But your return would provide stability. And you Thuvia, if we can get your father to see sense I see no reason why you cannot take up the mantle of Ptarth. And maybe provide for its future.”

The blush on Thuvia’s face is not unnoticed by either Dejah Thoris or me. I smile. I wondered who came to mind for that task.

Dejah Thoris unhappily voiced her thoughts, “Unfortunately, I think we must agree with Thurid and hide best we can in Kaol, the populace being dedicated to the ancient laws would see us as blasphemers and our lives would likely be forfeit if we left the safety of the Holy Hekkador’s company.”

Dejah Thoris and Thuvia are unhappy with the prospect of being locked away the whole time we are to be here. But none of us saw a safe way around it.

I still thought maybe I could find a way to disguise and smuggle them out of the city and back to safety. Both going to Helium first. Ptarth would be unsafe until it was freed from the clutches of the ancient lie.

We came to rest alongside the top of the tower. Our boat was much too large to land on the pinnacle. So, we tethered to the tower as a ship might to a pier on your Jasoom. We transferred to the tower via a boarding bridge. The ground was reached utilizing an internal shaft. There were lifts built into the tall narrow pillar, but they did not descend all the way to the ground. There were breaks, intentional breaks in the journey. In places, we would have to climb down long ladders that could be removed in the case of an invasion. The slaves provided by the Jeddak moved our baggage and those items the Hekkador and Thurid deemed necessary to their comfort during our stay.

Not all our goods on the ship were being transferred, our flier remained tethered to the watchtower with the bulk of our supplies and treasure remaining there. We would take on fuel, and I assumed much of the prized fruits and nuts found only here in the jungles of Kaol.

A strong guard was placed on the deck and a contingent of thern warriors remained to oversee the locals. I wondered at the time for the need of such a strong guard, it was only later that I discovered there were well-organized pockets of malcontents unhappy with the Jeddak remaining faithful to the ancient goddess Issus who would gladly sabotage our flier.

Our party was also guarded by a detachment of the Jeddak's guard. That the guard’s main duty was to ensure our safety from any assassins that might infiltrate the tower was unknown to us all at the time, even my father.

I wondered at the precaution. From the demeanor and the watchful eye of these guards, the danger was more than theoretical. I thought that maybe, like any society, some seemed to live to cause trouble.

As we descended, first via the lifts, and later via a ladder to the next left station, I noticed that one of the young guardsmen and his partner, an older battle-scarred woman, were keeping pace with me and my servants. Making every effort to keep us in sight while carefully watching those around us for any signal that I might be in danger.

There seemed to be a mischievous smile occasionally making an appearance on the woman's face. That smile was at total odds with the rest of her countenance. Her eyes held the look of one who had seen more than her share of combat. The eyes, along with the scars and fitness of the woman spoke of her many years of service in her Jeddak's guard.

The young man with her, smooth of limb and glowing with youthful energy, was keeping a dedicated watch on any that got near me or mine. My curiosity was aroused when for the briefest moment, my eyes locked with his and there seemed to be . . . something, an unnamed and unknowable something, pass between us. Shaking off the strange sensation, I kept my attention on the ladder and our descent.

Contrary to my experience in the past, the slaves lead the way with our belongings. And they did not use the ladders. When they reached the deadfalls, our belongings were piled on lifting pallets with built-in small buoyancy tanks to allow them to float the cargo down.

Taking an opportunity to speak to the young man, and to satisfy my curiosity, “Why do we not just ride one of those,” here I pointed at the floating disk with my bags on it, “down the deadfalls.”

The older woman laughed, but it was the young man who answered the question as if it were the most important and interesting question he had ever heard. “There have been too many accidents. The technology in Kaol is far behind all other red nations, and these are very unreliable.”

Still curious, I ask, "Why do the slaves and the cargo go first?”

“To avoid having it fall on our heads as we descended the ladders,” was the reply. The young guard's voice was polite and pleasant, but I could tell he was having some trouble believing that he was talking to one of the gods of his religion.

Continuing the long descent, we did not speak again. But I found a curious comfort in the young man's presence and his devoted attention to my safety. I have no idea what my companions thought of the situation or if they even noticed.

Night was falling as we reached the ground.

The walk to the palace was short. Nothing could be seen in the dark. It seemed the Kaolians did not light their streets in the night. The city would not be visible to any flying over in the dark.

But once we entered the palace, all was light and magical. The walls were more of hardened wood than of stone. Which I assumed was much more difficult to obtain in the middle of the swampy ground. And I understood why at least one trading partner was needed. There would be things that Kaol could not provide for itself, even though the needs for outside materials were small. As we progressed, the walls became stone and marble. There was little to distinguish it from any other royal palace.

There was a swarm of activity about the place as we were escorted to our rooms.

Finding my young man nearby, I ask, "What is going on?"

“We are making ourselves ready for the Jedak’s journey on the day after tomorrow. He goes to meet a visiting Jeddak on the road and escort him in honor the rest of the way to our home.”

“And will you accompany the Jeddak?” I was unsure why I asked the question. But I felt some need to know.

“Yes, my utan will make up part of the guard. We will be gone for two days, one day out and one day back. But tomorrow, I am assigned along with three others to you." He volunteered the information and seemed surprised with himself at feeling the need to tell me.

I was a little taken back by the knowledge and not that he would guard me, but that none of the thern were assigned that task.

Mistaking my frown for displeasure with him. "I do not have to be part of your guard, I am sure if you are displeased, others will be assigned you.”

"No, you will do fine. It is not you or the others. I was just wondering why I would not have my own thern guards."

Here he smiled, maybe too much of a smile, but he wished to please by telling me why.

“The Holy Hekkador has been told to keep his guards close to himself. The Jeddak is worried about his safety and if anything were to happen to him while he is here. Well, honor would dictate the destruction of any that allowed harm to fall the Holy Hekkador."

From his manner and attitude to my father but his comfort in addressing me, I began to wonder what he knew of me, of my station. I also wondered what he was thinking about the only three women in the Holy Hekkador's party.

Thuvia and Dejah Thoris had been veiled and covered in silks during our descent. They were escorted into the rooms to await me while I asked my questions. That they were of the red race could not be doubted. The chains Thurid had insisted on told the story of their station. Slaves and servants. But what was I in his eyes?

His partner appeared at his shoulder. “We leave now. Other’s will guard them tonight. We will take over in the morning. Come, we need to rest.”

She dragged him off. I turned to enter our rooms. I found the one set aside for me. Entering, I found my companions just as they had been during the entire journey from the ship. I quickly found a key to the shackles and freed them.

We were left to our own devices in our room in the suite of apartments given over in the palace to the Holy Hekkador and his party. That first night was peaceful. Thurid and my father were the only ones who ventured to the court of the Jeddak. A few thern guards always accompanied them along with a slightly larger escort of palace guards. My slaves were confined to my suites, but I watched these local guards bow and submit to the whims of the guards who were Holy Therns of the Tenth Cycle. The brilliant rays of their gem of office glittering in the center of their forehead. Any one of those gems was worth the entire capital city. It was no wondered the locals practically crawled in their presence. All but a few. These I took particular notice of, as I'm sure did their officers and the tenth cycle thern with them.


	60. Jungle Fruit

### Jungle Fruit

Rising early, as was our custom, the three of us looked for a place to eat our breakfast. A quick exploration of the nearby rooms found a pleasantly furnished chamber with a window overlooking an inner courtyard. Beyond the courtyard, we could see a broad avenue leading to the main gates of the city. We were high enough in the tower central to the palace that we had a good view of the thoroughfare. We could even make out some of the movements of the utan of guards stationed at the gates a few kilometers away.

The provided fruits, nuts, and juices were new and exotic to most of us, all except Thuvia, who was familiar with the forest produce.

“It has been many years since I have tasted the succulent sweetness of a sonjh fruit or the tartness of the nuts from the callanth tree. This reminds me of my visits here in my youth,” the delight in Thuvia’s voice was pleasant to hear.

I found the callanth nuts to be bitter rather than tart, but I kept my mouth shut and just avoided them after the first bite. There were other nuts and other fruits of many shapes and sizes. My favorite fruit was colored like my own hair, the thick rind hiding a sweet and juicy pulp. I had to be careful to not bite down on the seeds as they proved to be even more bitter than the callanth nut.

Eating the fruit, I ended up with a mouth full of seeds. I did not want to swallow them. But I had no idea what to do. I did not want to spit them out either. Food went into mouths, it did not come out, except when sick.

Thuvia noticed my dilemma and laughed, almost falling over.

"You just have to spit them out into that bowl. It was provided for that purpose." 

The sight of me sparked a memory in Thuvia, "When I was just out of the shell, my brother would tease me. He told me that if I swallowed the seeds, a shockalak tree would sprout in my body and burst through my stomach. He said it was the way the trees reproduced. It was a lie told to a gullible young hatching. It amused him to no end to tease me when I accidentally swallowed a seed. My days were numbered, he said. I would be a lovely tree, he said. It was nice having a sister at least for a little while, he said.”

Taking the bowl off the table, I spit the seeds out. Accidentally swallowing one in the process. 

Smiling, I look at her,

“I guess my days are numbered too. I accidentally swallowed one just now.”

She and I shared a laugh. Dejah Thoris just smiled like a mother tolerating her children's foolishness. I had suspected that she was much older than Thuvia. But this appearance of the forbearing parent told me she knew she was. I wondered then how much living had she done before Thuvia was hatched? Before John Carter arrived? Had she had other mates? Other children?

Other mates, I suspected yes. But other children, I doubted.

Thuvia continued, “I could have killed him when I found out the ruse. After swallowing the seed, I went to confess my misfortune and upcoming death to our mother. I apologized for jeopardizing the royal line. I was exceedingly sorry, as only a young one can be. My mother smiled, took my hand, and went to find my brother, Dinh Van. The scolding he received and the admittance of the lie of the story put my mind to ease. But I always wondered from then on about any story that seemed outlandish. Too outlandish to be true, especially stories that invoked fear. I learned that fear overrode reason, making me accept it. My life was at stake if I ignored it. The art of manipulation I learned that day. To counter it, the determination to discover the truth before acting became my creed. Not that it did me any good after my mother died, the grief overcame reason, I took that trip down the Iss with hope. I should have known better even then.”

The sober looks on my companions’ faces as Thuvia finished reminded us all to keep our eyes and ears open. To look before we leap as the saying I have since learned would put it.

The need to find ways of affecting my companions escape pressed on my nerves. But the reminder to be careful, to move only after taking a full assessment of the risks and rewards told me I needed more information. Much more information about this city, what factions might exist, finding those I could trust with the lives of my only friends. I would have to find some way to hand them to their own nations or someone who could and would protect them, but who.

My wanting them dead nor even in danger was long in the past. I had come to view both as closer to sisters. Certainly, more sister than servant. My greatest current fear was of and for myself. The role I must play in keeping them safe was also the role most likely to cause my own soul’s destruction.

Every cruel word or deed of mine provides a small bit of safety in that it provided camouflage to the real situation. They would be taken from me if my father or Thurid had more than a vague suspicion. In treating them as my property, I kept them out of the hands of others who would use and abuse them. That included both my father and Thurid.

In sometimes slipping and showed my concern for their well-being I put us all in danger. I only hoped that it was viewed as an owner who did not want to be slowed down by a sick or injured slave. As far as being discovered here eating and laughing. We had barred the door after entering, it was thick, and any sound was unlikely to pass through it.

When we were alone, I still maintained my role unless we were certain we were not being watched. They knew my intentions to keep them safe and to find a way to return them to a safe place. They did not blame more for their treatment. But it chipped away at my new-found self. My better self. My soul. I feared losing myself to my old ways, my old views.

Maybe I could find somewhere here in Kaol that would take, hide, and provide a route to Helium and Carthoris’s protection. Barring that, maybe John Carter would still show up and take them. Them, and . . . maybe me?

“I need to look around, to gather what information I can about this place, and maybe find a way to help you two escape. At the very least, I need to discover if there are dangers to us. Dangers we are unaware of. I know my father is arrogant enough to believe he still holds sway over everyone in this city. But given what we saw on our way down that shaft, the warning not to land outside a gate, the number of guards, the care with which they watched tells me something else.”

Concern instantly clouds their faces.

“We cannot leave. Our faces are too well known. Thuvia, from her previous visits. And me, well let us say that the jungle had been a tremendous lure to me my whole life. I have visited the periphery more than once. My name and face are well known to the guardians of the roads and the rangers that patrol the edges of the woods. We need to avoid detection by the zealots who would likely kill us on the spot for breaking the laws against returning from the Valley Dor. Besides, Thurid and your father will not let us out of this room,” Dejah Thoris was not happy as she recited the reasons she and Thuvia could not leave the room.

“But I can. None will recognize me for who I am, just what I am. And I will have guards about me as I explore. I am sure my father will not let me travel alone. But now, we must put on our masks and return to our chamber, I need to get ready for the day.”

Leaving the remains of our breakfast on the table, I unbarred the door and lead the way back to my room. Dejah Thoris and Thuvia trailing behind as if they were my obedient and fearful slaves.

Entering my bed-chamber, I closed and barred the door to keep prying eyes and ears at bey. Gathering my things, jewels, ornaments, and dagger , I dress for warm and humid weather. Only a few silks hang artfully off my harness along with the bag of coins and jewels I would use as currency. I had added few heavier cuffs about my wrists and ankles as I put myself together for a day exploring the city.

The concern of my companions’ follows me as I make ready. I feel their need to be with me on my mission, to share in the danger.

“I wish you could go too, at least it would put your mind at ease as you would not have to worry about me alone in a strange city. That is your main concern, right?”

I had not noticed I had answered their unvoiced concerns.

The chorus of “yes” confirms my thought. Feeling something odd about the response and realizing I had responded to their thoughts without them speaking I wondered.

“I would like to have the company of my sisters as we explore and Thuvia’s guidance as she has been here before, but it cannot be helped.”

“We know,” again as a chorus. Were they using their telepathy to do that? I smiled.

“It must be nice to know what the other is thinking.”

The coordinated smiles appear, slow at first then full-on met my gaze.

Dejah Thoris nods, "It is only by invitation and the dropping of our mental shields that we can do this. You are more talented than any other thern we know. Perhaps our time in the Temple of the Sun has awakened or strengthened the latent abilities in you. Maybe all thern given exposure could learn. But it is an advantage now to keep most in the dark. So to speak.”

I nod at this. My intuition was better now, and I had learned to trust it more. I could not just talk to anyone without touching them or pass mental images or see those passed by others without that contact. But, I knew things, and I knew I knew them. I could read some people’s emotions, even at a distance. Maybe, over time, I could become as skilled as my friends.

Thinking about it I surmised that Thern and First Born seemed to be hatched with mental blocks in place and no suspicion that they were there. In spending long periods in contact with and communicating with my friends, I must have found ways around my own.

Finished with my preparation and ready for the day, looking every bit a princess in jewels and richly colored silks, I stand before them for their assessment.

"Very pretty. A vision of gold, green, and blue. Keep that dagger to hand though, you never know what could happen. And, I approve of the bracelets and ankle guards, good work arming and armoring without looking like it. Very pretty,” Thuvia’s assessment touches my heart in unexpected ways. Praise did feel good.

We all nod in unison, and I wonder. Was it just coincidence or was I picking up on their communication?


	61. Land of Shadows

### Land of Shadows

Leaving my friends to their own devices for the day. I head to find my father, first to tell him I want to do some shopping and to see the city, second to see about a few of his thern for guards.

I hear my father’s and Thurid’s voices as I approach the main room of the suite. Their voices are excited but kept low. Almost as if they were afraid of being overheard. Who would be spying on them? Why did they seem concerned? My interest peaked immediately. I approach quietly, keeping out of sight, and stop just short of entering the room.

My father’s voice was just above a whisper, but I could plainly hear, “How could we know? We will have to keep both hostages hidden as much as possible. Thuvia is sure to be recognized by any one of the visiting royal’s advance party. And if her . . . ”

A sound from down the corridor echoed, abruptly the conversation in the room stopped. After a while, it resumed but on entirely different topics.

The visiting royal? I needed more information. I think back to the evening before. The guard had mentioned traveling to meet a Jeddak on the road. Which Jeddak? Thuvia had said her nation was the only ally of Kaol, could it be?

Entering the main room of the suite of rooms, as if I had just walked on in, I find my father and Thurid discussing the day. Plans to visit the temples. Plans to contact the spies and priests in hiding in the city. Plans to take on more fuel and supplies.

I eventually interrupt, taking the part of the spoiled daughter of the highest religious authority on the planet whose only immediate concern was to avoiding boredom and being cooped up with the hostages the whole time I am here.

“We are here at least for a while? Right? I would like to get some cosmetics and other needed items that were impossible to obtain while we were sequestered in that dreadful mountain fortress. I want to see what is available here. To shop and visit the temples and look at the sights only provided here in the middle of a real jungle.”

Thurid’s curious look at me as I take on this persona is a warning. My demeanor does not fool him, he knows the plans I had to escape with the slaves into the valley of the lost. I slip a sly smile onto my face and direct it at him, almost as if we shared a secret.

“You go ahead and shop, but our slaves are not to accompany you, they might find a way to slip our hold and we cannot be delayed while we search for them. Be sure to take a few of the local guards to keep you safe. It would be a sign of good faith to use the guards provided by our host. A demonstration of our faith in the loyalty of our host. They can be useful to you, perhaps direct you to the sights you wish to see and the products you wish to buy.”

I nodded to my father in an understanding of his instructions. No thern guard. I would have to make do with the locals. I would not let that keep me from my mission. Maybe it was a stroke of luck to be forced on those with better knowledge of the city. The thoughts and concerns of the locals would more likely be overheard if only one thern, a not very important thern, was present.

I think my father is happy to see me leave for the day. To keep me out of his sight, or is it Thurid he is worried about? Not being here removes me from Thurid’s influence? Or is his worry more along the lines of my safety?

I start to worry about my friends’ safety. “What kind of guard are you putting on my room to keep the hostages from escaping?” I was most worried about a particular man visiting.

“Don’t worry, I am putting four thern and four locals on your door to keep them safely sequestered.” My father’s subtle shift of his eyes toward Thurid as he speaks tells me he is just as worried about keeping the hostages out of his hands as I am. I know his reasons are not mine. But I am thankful that in this, we have a common immediate goal.

Relieved, I nod. “Good.”

Leaving my father and Thurid to continue their interrupted conversation. I walk out to the nearest guard room to select my escort for the day.

On seeing the young man from the night before, along with his partner, I hesitate. He is in a group of four, two men and two women, the women looked almost identical. Either I chose at random, or I choose a pair that already has established a connection, I went with the connection.

I walked to the four who were deep in conversation. On my approach, the younger of the women looked up and nudged the older one.

At the expression on her face, all four came to attention and faced me.

"I require an escort for the day. I choose you four. Come with me."

There was no asking in this situation. I was the guest. I was a member of the holy race, and I was in charge.

I impatiently waited for them to complete arming and armoring themselves before turning to lead the way out of the guard room. Most of the other dozen guards curious and trying to hide their delight at not being roused out of their games or conversations by the visiting thern goddess watched.

The four naturally fell into two pairs. My curiosity got the better of me. I should have known better. Ever the slave to finding out the unknown, I slowed and turned to asked, "Who is guarding me today?"

The older woman seemed to be the senior in rank. She spoke up, "I am Tam Took, my partner is Akat Zemos, the second pair is Sasnor Krang and my sister Tam Eason. We are at your service holy one."

I nodded, “I can be called Phaidor, my rank is unimportant. I will be visiting the nearest temple, after that, I want to see the city and shop. I believe the temple is in that direction,” I pointed down the avenue, ”but, if one of you will lead I will worry less about missing it as I look at the sights.”

Tam Took bowed, motioning to Akat Zemos, they took up positions in front of me. The other pair followed. As I followed their lead, my attention wandered to the sights of the forest. The occasional beam of light penetrated to the ground, and the many patterns of shadows and shade playing about the scene. The lazy motion and gentle swaying of the shadows almost lulling me into a trance as I watch the patterns on the path before me.

I seem to enter a contemplative mood, almost divorced from myself. I feel as if I can see myself walking behind one set of guards and in front of the other. I become aware of color and smells, most of them unfamiliar but pleasant. The movement of people to-and-fro is noticeably affected by the presence of the stranger, me.

My eye seems to see without thought, to notice movement, shape, and color, to see without judgment. It is a pleasant experience, but one that leaves me feeling a little empty, insignificant, lost.

Coming back to myself. My thoughts wander first to my father. I wondered why I did not have at least one thern guard with me. Did he not trust his daughter to the men that were with him now? Why did he did trust the locals? Was it that he was concerned for his own safety? Maybe he was not as blindly arrogant as I thought.

Watching the two guards walking before me as they warned off curious passersby, I notice my eye wandering to the tall lieth figure of the young man. His movements graceful, his action purposeful. His profile as he kept an eye on the gathering crowds following me.

I must have made quite the unusual sight on the streets of Kaol. The royal guards boxing me in, protected. They were there to keep me safe, but I also suspected to keep the locals out of trouble. Who knows what power a goddess possessed? And what would rouse a goddess to use it on an unsuspecting citizen? But even without that unknown danger, there was the real danger from the Jeddak who would take no insult to his holy guests lightly.

Many bowed and made the reverent signs of the ancient religion. I walked along pretending not to see them or to acknowledge them. In my heart, I want to scream and shout at them. Tell them to open their eyes and look at what was happening in the world. To see with clarity, to think unhampered by superstition and tradition.

I noticed there were those who looked at me as if they believed the stories coming out of Helium and the other nations that had liberated the Valley Dor and the Temple of Issus. These people looked at me with skepticism plainly written on their faces. Only grudgingly followed the expected behaviors towards me.

Reaching the temple, one of the few completely stone buildings I had seen on my walk, I enter along with my four guards. Walking to the altar of offerings, I check to see what is being left. The populous was still being very generous to the local priests. Priests they had never seen but knew existed as the offerings disappeared overnight.

As I drew nearer the altar, it started to move. To recede into the floor. The astonished looks on the faces of the few present told me they had never seen this before. Most threw themselves to the ground, arms outstretched toward the alter and me.

I felt the flush of embarrassment start at my core and move to my arms, legs, chest, and eventually my face. I must have looked like a plekopak fruit I was so red. I noticed my guards simply took station with their backs to me and watched the crowds. They must have been as astonished as the rest, but I think even the short time with me had convinced them I was no real goddess.

With that thought, I wondered if that was why the priests hid from the population. Not just to increase the mystery. But to prevent questions that might arise. Any familiarity with the fallible thern would detract from their supposed omnipotence and omnipresence. The alter receded into the floor, revealing a stairway.

"Please wait here. I will be back soon."

Tam Took turned to look me in the eye, no fear present. “We obey highness.”

I smile, nod, and turn to descend the stairs.


	62. A Journey's Beginning

### A Journey’s Beginning

I entered the small room at the bottom of the stairs. Stairs were unusual but not unheard of on Barsoom. On the last step, I stumbled a bit as my foot hit the floor sooner than I thought it should.

"That last step is shorter than the others. You have to be careful," said a voice from nowhere, "Who are you? Your presence automatically triggered the entrance. Only a true thern of the holy house can do that. Not even the Holy Hekkador is recognized as such by the machinery controlling that alter.”

So, it was not just the people of Kaol who had never seen the alter move before. It must be tied in some way to my own lineage, my lineage from my mother since my father was not recognized.

“I am Phaidor, daughter of Yentam Ack and Matai Shang, Holy Hekkador of the Thern.”

“You are most welcome, Holy Hekkatta. I never thought I would live to see the day one such as you would visit Kaol. The truth is, I never thought the world would ever see another like you. But, come, sit and have a drink and tell me why you are here.”

At this invitation, one of the walls slid aside, revealing a pleasant and comfortably furnished chamber. And a small old man. Older than any other man I had ever seen. He did not wear his wig, his bald pate shining in the light of the radium bulbs set along three rows in the ceiling. I must have looked either scandalized or surprised.

“I can wear my hair if it makes you more comfortable.”

"No, that will not be necessary. I will adjust." What I was adjusting to was the sight of his age and not his lack of wig.

“Come sit and tell me what you are looking for. I see you have questions. Perhaps some of them very new questions?” A small laugh finished the thought.

I move to take a seat on a comfortable divan. The worn but soft fabrics cradle me in comfort. I look around as my host walks to a wall covered indoors.

"What would you have? I have many freshly offered fruit juiced ready to drink. The harvest of many trees has left the locals with much they cannot eat or drink before it goes bad. They give it to me and the other temples around the city. We use what we need but ship the rest to Ptarth, to our brothers and sisters there.

“You do not ship it home? I mean the Valley Dor?”

“I have not had much contact with home for many years, no centuries, and all the temples in the Kaol empire are rarely visited by thern traders. I truly do not know why that is. We have such wonderful and diverse products offered us here. But I ramble."

He sits and looks at me . . . intensely. As if he is committing my face and form to memory.

Shaking off the odd sensation of his stare, I ask, “I would know what word of the happenings in the Valley Dor and the Temple of Issus have reached here. How far have they penetrated the consciousness of the local populations? And if possible, your assessment of their take on the veracity of any stories reaching here.”

"My, you don't want much." He smiled a crooked smile, but there was real warmth in his face and eyes. And he kept staring at me. I was starting to feel uncomfortable, and he must have noticed it.

“I am sorry your holiness. I knew your great-grandmother, quite well, and you. . . you are the spitting image of her. I almost became her Hekkador, but your father’s father took the position instead. Until his son from a previous joining killed him and took your grandmother and it appears your own mother, his daughter I assume, in a joining.”

My stomach lurches. My mother was also my, what? Sister? Could this be true? It – it felt true. But maybe my mother was just a cousin or some other descendant in the holy line of women? One that had escaped my father’s apparent campaign of extermination. But the old man’s assessment, it felt true somehow.

No wonder my mother was anxious to leave, to never be in the same place as my father. She did not want to have anything to do with him - our father. Her need to escape to the far reaches of the mountains was very understandable. And her selection in the first place? She had not been known to any in my guard before her arrival just before the joining. She had almost appeared out of thin air. Where had she been before then? I had assumed she had been chosen because she had no ties to the powerful and treacherous Therns of the Tenth Cycle. That she was just some woman of the outlining temples and towns scattered along the mountain barrier.

If true, I was not a fresh start for the holy line, I was a direct descendant of it. And my father was eviler than I had ever dreamed. Part of it must be true. The altar had moved at my approach. It had recognized the holy house, a line of continuous descent for eons.

I must have appeared shaken. He smiled tenderly at me, “Now you know why I was exiled here long ago. Along with every other Tenth Cycle Thern who would not accept your father's usurpation of the holy order. Of his systematic campaign of killing the holy women and any who opposed him. I understand he is here. I wonder if he even remembers exiling most of the priests here. Why so little contact has been maintained between our temples and home.

“I have heard of thern ambassadors appearing in the open, negotiating with the Jeddak for the safe passage of the Hekkador and his party. I had no idea his daughter would be with him. Really, I had no idea you existed. I had no idea you would look like her.”

His open appraisal and assessment of my shock and horror lead him to offer, "I think I need to get something a little stronger than freshly squeezed juice into you. I have some fermented cider cooling; would you like some of that?”

“Yes, please.” My answer is almost automatic, a polite response to the hosts.

I sit staring at a spot of color on the wall opposite me without really seeing it. Listening to the occasional bright sounds of pottery and glass coming into contact with hard surfaces. Soon a clear glass holding a golden clear liquid is put in front of my face. Feeling as if my muscles might betray me at any moment, I reach up slowly to take it.

The first sip is cold, refreshing, and . . . tart! Tart enough to jar me out of my shock. The warmth following the intoxicating liquid down my throat only slightly less jolting.

I look at the glass in my hand then at my host.

He smiled at me kindly, “Better?”

I nod.

Taking his seat across from me he tries to answer the questions that I started our conversation with. “Now, yes the rumors have penetrated to the far corners of this empire. Most here do not believe them to be true. But! Some have been suspicious for years and took to these stories immediately."

“You know my father might visit this temple? Today in fact.”

“Let him. I will communicate with him as any other thern, through the voice tubes. I will answer his questions, report my intelligence, and bless him on his way. None have been here, in this room, for centuries. I intend to keep it that way.’ His welcoming smile and gentle tone indicate that I’m the welcome exception, “None, but you.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Too bad. I control the entrance and he does not have the key. None do. You found the only chink in my armor and I thought that pretty secure until you showed up.” He laughed, a pleasing bright sound.

Wondering at his understanding isolated as he was, "And you, do you believe the rumors, especially about the goddess Issus?"

"I believe I have sat before me the authority on the authenticity of those rumors. That is, given your prominence in the rumors themselves. What should I believe?”

"If you believe that she was an extremely ancient extremely evil old woman who has tricked a whole planet into worshiping her and manipulated us into being her accomplices. Then yes, you are right.”

“If the stories are true, then should you not still be imprisoned in the Temple of the Sun? By all accounts, you should still be there."

“My father, and Thurid of the First Born, rescued us from there at the half-year mark. There are secret tunnels to the cells, Issus sometimes liked to surprise her prisoners with early deaths.”

“I see.” His face clouded but he appeared to accept my explanation. He was obviously troubled, but I think he believed me.

“That would make my life would be a lie. Except here, I and the other exiles have done our best to spread good along with the lies. That has become our real life’s work. Training and counseling. Redistributing wealth and advancing harmony as much as we can manage. Being separated from the high court appears to have had its rewards. I would be angry, but really, anger is wasted here. She is dead and gone if the stories are true. There is a new order ruling the thern. And the First Born?”

“Both have adopted the ways of the red race. They each now have a Jeddak. The thern a Jeddera, I assume her daughters will be heir to the land. As for the First Born, I suspect lineage will be through the father and son, not the mother and daughter.”

My host sat for a while, then he looked at me. “And you, your goals.”

Did I dare trust this old man that I had just met? Should I reveal my goals of freeing Dejah Thoris and Thuvia? He must have seen something on my face.

“Don’t tell me if it will cause you distress. Just ask of me what you will.”

Did I even dare reveal I was looking for a way out of Kaol, without my father’s knowledge? Instead, I just asked, "Have you wandered the streets of the city? Do you leave this place?"

“Oh yes. Many times, for many years. I have a black wig, red pigment, and my eyes are changed in color by lenses. I am quite indistinguishable from anyone else, well now my age would give me away. I have not been out for a century or so."

“And the spies here?”

“Many live lives in the heart of the city. You may have met one or two and not known it. The stain they use does not wear off easily. They also have lenses that practically meld into their own to keep the color darker. As for hair, well we wear wigs all our lives and have ways to keep them on our head.” The humor in his eyes and smile as he tells the young of the tricks of the old is . . . endearing. "And the women just dye their hair. For them, it is quite easy."

Women? I had not thought of women being in the population of spies. But of course, they would be.

“Do the thern live only with the thern? Or do they, 'join for life', with the red race?"

“Both.”

Again, my face must have shown some sort of disbelieve or shock or disgust. I do not know how he read it. I think it was surprise.

“Mating with a lower order being is . . . part of the job. And I suspect you no longer think of them as lower order, do you? Well, neither do those who mate with the locals."

“Their children?”

"Oh, they are usually a lighter red, but not by much, and the dark eyes are the dominant trait. The only real danger is if they mate with each other, a light-eyed child might be born then. We try to discourage that. Most of the time, they do not even know they are half thern."

How many half thern were there? How many had made the journey to the Valley Dor? Not as citizens, but as slaves, how many of them were – eaten?

“I assume here you do not, um, -- eat your worshipers?”

“No, not for millennia, the spies and the local priests have found that to be – disgusting if the truth be known.”

I nod in agreement.

Taking my caution and discarding it concerning this man, I ask, "Is there a way to smuggle me and two others to Helium from here?"

“Ah, we come to your goal and the purpose of your visit. To explore ways out of your father's influence. I do not blame you. I too wished for exile rather than living near my tormentors.

“To answer your question. Yes. But it will take time to arrange. We will need to be careful of who is involved. Some spies and priests would be willing to help you and your friends. These friends I can only guess at, but the destination you desire tells me much. Come back in two days. I will tell you then if it is possible.”

Had I just made a mistake? Was everything soon to be revealed? Would my father would keep me in chains, until, until - - blood rushes from my head. Would he dare? He already had bedded his own daughter.

I needed to be away from him and soon.


	63. The Sights

### The Sights

I bid the old man goodbye at the bottom of the stairs that would take me back to the world. He reentered his room to push the button that would replace the wall before me. As the wall closed between us the alter descended and once again a way was open between the world of the lone thern priest and the red people above.

The scene was much as I had left it. But instead of all four guards standing at the altar, two were guarding the door that none might leave and the other two were flanking the altar.

Tam Took and her partner Akat Zemos stood watching the crowd, they must have heard the altar move as the tall woman looked back to check on my whereabouts as I ascended the stairs. The curiosity that filled the room and radiated from the two guards standing at the top of the stairs pressed on my nerves. Was I getting more sensitive to those around me, picking up their emotions, or was I just getting better at reading their posture and facial expressions?

Coming to a stop as I stood between them, keeping my voice low, I asked, “Is everything good here?”

Tam Took answered, “I decided to keep the news of this from spreading too quickly. I placed my sister and her partner at the entrance to keep any from leaving. A few have wandered in with their offerings and have been detained here with the rest. We should leave this place soon. I am unsure of what will transpire once word of this gets into general circulation.”

I nod, understanding the need to slow down the flow of information about this extraordinary event. I did not need a mob, and it was always unclear what would happen if one were to gather. Given enough luck, most of the stories from today would be met with skepticism and disbelief. The arrival of the thern at the palace viewed as an opportunity for those seeking attention to make up stories about the visitors.

As for what was bothering me the most. I refused to believe the implication that the priest assumed was correct. My hopes were pinned on my mother being a cadet branch of the holy family. That she was a cousin of the woman who had joined with my father before her untimely death and who had foolishly made my father her Hekkador.

I worried what my father would think if he should happen to hear the story of the altar. Would he understand what had happened? The implications? Did he already know my true lineage? Or, had my mother managed to go into hiding and through some machination of her own engineered my birth to continue the unbroken line of women who had until my father’s ascension to the Hekkador define the holy family.

To take my mind off the worry even if only for a little while, “I would like to keep moving. First to see the sights, what you or Akat Zemos think most interesting, and then I need to do some shopping. I suspect that I will not be dining at the royal table during this visit. I will need fresh fruit, juices, cheese, and wine for me and my servants’ dinner tonight and maybe tomorrow’s breakfast.”

Tam Took bowed low. It hurt me a little to see it. There was also a touch of uncertainty in her eyes. A question. What it was I did not know. Did I not trust the staff in the palace? Was I really a goddess? Did I have dietary restrictions? Did I only trust my own judgment?

Or was it related to what had just happened? Something that had never happened before. Something none had even heard of.

She saluted and moved to join the others at the entrance. The odd mixture of religious and military spoke to the confusion in her mind.

I followed her lead and Akat Zemos followed behind. A spike of some emotion emanated from him, it felt - odd, sharp, and - I am glad he could not see the blush on my face as I felt my own body respond to that – interest. And I had felt it! Without question, it emanated from Akat Zemos, and it was intense, personal, and intimate.

However, my blush, and it appeared maybe his, was not unnoticed. Tam Eason had witnessed whatever it was that had just happened. Even from fifteen meters away she could read the signs.

I looked around to see if any others had noticed. But they seemed to be involved in their own thoughts, most had their heads down. Those who had witnessed what had happened with the altar did not seem to have any confusion. Most are reverent, awed, or disbelieving.

But a few were almost openly hostile, they tried to hide it, but my intuition was heightened. My life felt fragile and my body and mind were desperate for solitude, a time and place to think. But that would have to wait.

As I walked along behind Tam Took, there seemed to be almost a confining pressure exuding from the crowd. Something like sunlight pressing on the body. It confused me. A jumble of impressions and thought fragments began running through my mind. Were they my fractured thoughts? Or was I sensing pieces of thoughts directed at me in the confining temple?

The people moved aside as we moved towards the door. The fifteen meters from the altar to the exit felt like closer to fifty. As the crowd parted, they then made to prostrate themselves along our path. The sight of them bowing low and readying themselves to go prone invoked a feeling not dissimilar to that I had felt as the altar moved.

A feeling of power seeped through me and almost immediately the thought of Issus flared in my mind. This was the drug that drew her to her destination. My stomach revolted and as people made to bow and prostrate themselves, I held out my hand to stop them.

Speaking with as much power as I could without raising the timber of voice into anger, "Please, do not. I am pleased with you as you are. A proud and independent people. I gratefully receive your good wishes and return my own. I am not the head of the priesthood, that is my father. I am a daughter, that is all. Nothing more. If you must bow do so for him."

The surprised looks on their faces morphed into something closer to – acceptance? To possession? Somehow my words, against my expectation and desire, cemented me more closely to many of their hearts. Their show of respect was now muted. In a way more sincere. More authentic. Those that had shown hostility looked at me questioningly.

A few, a very few, did not soften their regard, did not share in that respect, that goodwill. They became even more evident by the difference in their posture, attitude, and expression. It did not go unnoticed by either my guards or those around them.

I saw Tam Took remove a device from one of the pouches hanging off her harness, this she directed in the general direction of the knot of hostile young men and women. She then returned the device and continued moving to the door. Her head, now swiveling back and forth as she watched the small crowd occupying the temple's main chamber.

Realizing that this appeared to insult some, I needed to find a way to soothe and read their emotions. I did not want to hurt them or their new attachment to me. Wondering if it might work, I smile in pleasure and, maybe, to hide my nerves. I reach out to touch the hands of those lining the path as I go. Maybe, I would feel or sense what they were really feeling and thinking. If their guards were down, to let me feel their emotions as individuals.

The surprised look on the faces of those I touched as I passed transformed to a confused understanding. A resolve. Protection. My protection. As they realized my goal was their well-being, their goal became mine. A ripple passed from those I touched back as the impressions of those touched moved through the crowd.

Again, I hoped my father would not place any credence on any story he might hear of today's events.

As I leave the temple, Tam Took and Akat Zemos take the lead, and Tam Eason and Sasnor Krang closely followed. Then came the crowd as the temple emptied. I was surprised when many of them scattered.

I assumed to tell the story. Or, maybe some were only respecting my wishes for more solitude? I know my desire must have been much in my own thoughts as I passed along their ranks.

A small number, maybe ten to fifteen, follow along at a respectful distance. I think to keep an eye on me, even to protect me. I think this for a while until I notice that at least five of those following were those showing open hostility in the temple. They were slightly separate from the others. The look in their eyes was far from peaceful.

Turning my attention away from them, I watch the other people we encounter in the street. A broad avenue with shops tucked under and between the massive tree trunks. Trees that rose high into the air all around. I saw we were now approaching the even wider avenue leading to the main gate. We turned towards the gate. I knew that if I looked behind us, I would see the massive stone towers of the palace that were still dwarfed by the trees surrounding it. Somewhere along the nearer tower was the room where I had breakfasted, the window overlooking this very street. And near that room were my companions locked away for the day. I felt a twinge of guilt at my freedom and their captivity.

We reached the massive gate and entered a door in the wall. The crowd was left behind as the gate guards barred their way. The five of us ascended the long ramp to the top of the wall. There I looked out over the clearing to the primeval forest surrounding the city. I could see some way into the forest along the raised causeway of the road that led straight towards Thuvia’s home city.

At the thought, I wondered what her reception might be should I manage to get her free. Would she be put to death? Or would she be greeted as a solution for her father's current predicament of not having a clear line of succession for the city-state?

I moved to the interior side of the wall to look at the city. I could see the palace towers tucked into the woods and here and there dwellings on the ground and high in the trees. Many homes in the world used large cylinders to raise either the whole house or just the sleeping quarters high into the air to prevent easy access for assassins. Here, they just barred the way to the upper rooms built into the trees.

I spend the next zode following Tam Took along the wall to another section of the city. One occupied by the nobles and their many gardens built in and around their houses. Houses that were but little short of the size and strength of the palace itself.

Near midday, I decided to find something for us all to eat. I was hungry, and I had to assume my guards were too. Plus, I needed to find the items I had told my father were the purpose of the trip. He might not notice me at all, but it was good to be prepared with evidence of the truth of my request this morning should he take this one time to notice me.


	64. Lunch

### Lunch

“I wanted to eat outdoors. Somewhere secluded enough to not feel like I was on exhibit but in the open air with the sights and sounds of the forest. Trees, flowers, and flowing water. “

In some respects, the gardens of Kaol resembled those of the Valley Dor. Both places had some of the last remaining free-standing water on the planet. Both had plants rare to nonexistent elsewhere. And both used fountains and flowing artificial streams in their landscapes. The big difference was in the Valley you could see the sun and look out across the sea. Here, the sun and the water were mostly hidden. The occasional beam of light might break through the overlapping tree branches, but that beam was short-lived, not lasting more than a second.

“I know of a small garden not far from the businesses that supply the palace. You will find almost anything you are looking for there. The place I am thinking of is easily controlled. One entrance, surrounded by impenetrable hedges and walls that muffle the sounds of the city."

Tam Took’s assessment of my wants was surprising. But given the amount of interaction with people and the raw nerves that resulted from the, new to me, ability to feel the crowd’s emotions and at times hear fragments of thought. I needed a place to control that exposure. I nod my head in acceptance. Tam Took, once again taking the lead, heads back towards the palace district. But now we were coming at it from the opposite side.

After a few xats, we arrived at the glittering shops set into the woods. A quick stop at a stall selling fresh fruit got us a few for an appetizer. Many of the shops here were made of wood, but most had facades of stone. A few were entirely of that hard to obtain material here in the swampy forest of Kaol. A short distance down one of the side streets was the entrance to a garden with high walls made of bushes or stone. A baby ulsio would have a problem worming through the places where only the hedge supplied the barrier.

After sending Sasnor Krang and Akat Zemos in to clear it of the few people who had hoped to have their own lunch in the quiet place, Tam Took motioned me inside. But here, a mischievous and curious expression accompanied her order to Akat Zemos to stand guard at my back, to keep an eye on the sole entrance, and to keep me safe while she and her sister went to gather lunch.

I sat waiting on the bench in the center of the garden idly pealing another of the fruit I had favored at breakfast. I wondered if the stone I sat on was quarried near Ptarth.

With that thought, I remembered and missed my companions. I knew I had left them with enough food for their own midday meal even should the rest of the Hekkador’s staff ignore them. I was hoping someone in the palace would remember to bring them fresh wine and water, but even that was not really needed. I wish they were here with me now. To sit and enjoy the quiet found in this spot supplied by Tam Took’s initiative.

Sasnor Krang stood guard at the entrance. He had his hands' full warding off the small group of young boys and girls, most not even a year out of their shells, who had spotted me and decided to follow as we had traversed the market. I was unlike any other being they had yet met and being very young they were very curious. 

But being young they were full of excess energy, energy not always used to purposeful and peaceful ends. One of the lads got the idea to throw rotten fruit that they had found earlier in a trash pit at the guard. After all, he was being mean to them and they figured it was only fair to be mean to him. A few of them have very good aim.

After being pelted a few times, the pulp and flesh of various fruits smearing his armor and exposed skin, Sasnor Krang had had enough. Looking back at Akat Zemos a message must have passed between them as he drew his short sword and wrapping it in leather to keep from really hurting any of the youngsters, he set out to take care of disciplining the miscreants.

At the sight of the warrior covered in various shades of juices and pulp, I was having a hard time not laughing. I felt the suppressed mirth of the guard standing behind me as he too found it had to restrain himself. It was too much, I burst out laughing, the first laugh I think I had experienced since one of Thuvia’s stories told in the Temple of the Sun. It felt good. It also felt good to share it with the man standing behind me as his peals joined mine. I hoped Sasnor Krang was far enough away to no hear us. Without a word passed I felt a companionship with the man, a joy of shared laughter.

Regaining control of myself and sitting straight and proper on the bench I took hold of my composure and he followed suit. He was again the stalwart guard keeping a close watch on the surroundings. I felt his realization that he was now my sole protector. The need to protect me radiated off of him like a furnace.

It was then that a young girl, freshly hatched, not more than a few days old wandered into the unguarded entrance.

She picked up one of the fruits that had been placed just inside the entrance on another bench. It was obvious she was still learning the customs and the way of the world. I assumed she was hungry and just grabbed one of the small fruits. Fruit that was meant to be my refreshment while I waited on the larger midday meal.

Only Akat Zemos was standing guard over me. He started coming around the bench to chase the young one away. To teach her manners. The youth could have just gone to the market and taken fruit from one of the stands. The young were given leeway until they were about a year old. But to take one already selected by another, that was very much frowned on, even in the youngest.

As he rounded the corner of the bench, I reached up and grab his elbow before he had a chance to follow the little thief. With the motion, I flashback to doing the same to one of Issus's guards. Saving Dejah Thoris’s husband during the uprising.

With a shake of the head to clear it of that image, I say, “Let her go. She does not understand, and soon enough she will be taught the error of her actions. Let her be. Let her parents teach her. I am sure theft here is as much frowned on as the rest of the planet, being beneath the honor of even the lowest. There is no need as all are allotted the right to eat and live sheltered and comfortably. I know I have seen the centers where meals that are a right of every citizen are supplied. Please let her be. Besides, if you leave, who will be guarding me?”

I smile at that last sentence. I knew Tam Took would take the hide off both Sasnor Krang and Akat Zemos if I were to be left totally alone and unguarded. Especially after the evidence of the knot of hostile people in the temple this morning.

He looked down at the hand arresting his pursuit. I followed his look to see my pale hand resting on the bright red skin of the young warrior. I quickly removed my hand. I had to maintain the facade of power, of being above these creatures. My face resumed its unconcerned vacant look. My posture returned to one of rigid propriety.

But my hand is on fire. The nerves tingle, and this time I think I see his face going even redder than normal.

After that, I suspect that Akat Zemos was suspicious of my behavior. That he was starting to see through the façade of the haughty thern.


	65. A Day Out

### A Day Out

The Tam sisters had returned with sticks of meat, plant roots, and fruits roasted over an open flame. A meal I had never had before. But I found it to be quite satisfying. The advantage was that the guards could stand watch and still eat. There was also wine and water in returnable bottles, I found this interesting. I had never eaten out like this before. Never been in public or looked for convenient ways to satisfy my hunger. Before, even when trekking across the valley of lost souls, I had been served as befitted my rank.

The rest of the afternoon, I made the little garden my collection point, the center of my activities. I would visit whichever shop struck my fancy next. New silks for me and my friends, cosmetics, again for all three of us. I did get a few odd looks from vendors as I selected some of the darker shades. Things that would obviously not work for me. And while it was not easy to find, things to match my own skin. I did find plenty of blues and greens of lighter shades that would do fine.

All during the day, I found myself not wanting to return to the palace complex. I wanted to rest here alone between my excursions. I had not been this alone in years. I was surrounded by people, but they were people I did not know, I did not have to impress or to serve or to keep alive. I found myself relaxing, perhaps unwisely, in response to this solitude even among the crowds of the citizens of Kaol. I often stopped and sat in the garden. The shade of the mighty trees only occasionally pierced by the rays of the sun. But even without the direct penetration of the sunlight there were moving and swaying areas of lighter and darker shade dancing along with the now and then brilliant light reaching the ground in ever-changing patterns.

Each time I returned to the bench in my garden. I had come to think of it as mine. The guards assumed the same arrangement. Sasnor Krang would watch over my growing collection of items. He remained at the entrance to the garden throughout the afternoon. The Tam sisters ranged close and far to keep an eye on anyone that looked like they might come too near me. And Akat Zemos, he stuck to my side, usually a pace and a half behind my right shoulder or when I was sitting behind. His presence, when noticed, was a comforting warm feeling. But most of the time I could not tell he was around. His movements were silent, and he was able to stand still for long periods. And it appeared his shields were fully engaged. Not a leak nor a peep came from his mind.

In all my activity, I had collected a small, ever-changing, crowd of watchers. People who were curious at my appearance, or just took the opportunity to view one of the fabled thern. Not always the same people, but the group maintained about the same number. Those who joined balanced out those who left to resume their daily activities. Each person taking a few tals of their day to gawk. The presence of the guard kept them away from me. Some of them milled about the entrance of the garden. Standing away from Sasnor Krang but with a view to where I sat.

Later in the day, having finished most of my shopping, I was resting. Concentrating on the shifting patterns on the walls and grounds of the garden. I was lost in wordless thoughts, what might be described by some as meditation. I became aware of a pressing need. But it was not my need. The awareness centered on the man at my back. So, his need was breaking through his mental shields.

Look up and back, I notice an odd look on Akat Zemos’s face. Remembering my indiscretion earlier in the day, I was hesitant to ask him the question on my mind. But in looking back at him, I must have had a questioning look of my own.

“I see you have a question but don't know if you can ask it or not.” Akat Zemos had kept his voice low and pitched so that only I could hear it. This was odd since it was his own pressing need for information that had sparked my own. Deciding to try to satisfy my own curiosity.

"I only wonder at what stories are being told. I hear fragments of statements from some in the crowd. Thoughts about the events at the Temple of Issus and the Valley Dor. Others are about what happened this morning. I want to know what you might have heard about any of that and what people are thinking.”

His face becomes serious, "There have been rumors started by those attending the questioning of intruders captured at the edges of our domain. Statements made by them of either being liberated from the Temple of Issus itself or of being freed from servitude in the Valley Dor."

This was interesting. Why had he chosen to start his response with this information? What did he need to know? Maybe, he wondered if the stories being told were true. He still had not told me what people are thinking about me or the stories related to my companions.

“And you, do you believe these rumors?” I was keeping my voice down and not looking back at Akat Zemos. We spoke to keep those around us from overhearing and from even suspecting that we were talking. I knew I was running a risk with the young warrior, but something tells me I needed to hear what he had to say.

“The captured intruders having confessed to the one thing none of us must do, return from our journey down the River Iss, were put to death by the courts. But their stories they swore were true. They told stories of thousands of prisoners being released from the Valley Dor and the Temple of Issus. People who dared not to return to their own countries for fear of being put to death. A mandate of terrible death which rests against all who return from the Valley Dor. Tales of these people have been wandering the planet looking for refuge. Of course, they didn't find it here."

“There seems to be more you are not telling me.”

“I have a friend from Ptarth, part of the advance party making things ready for the arrival of the Jeddak of Ptarth.”

So, it is Thuvia’s father coming. What would be his response if he knew his daughter was nearby? Would he demand her death or welcome her with open arms?

"And what did that friend tell you? Come, I see you hesitate." At these words, I drop a fruit that rolls toward Akat Zemos. I stand up to retrieve it. I contrive to touch him as I reach out to steady myself as if I overbalance in reaching for the fruit. I firmly grasp the bare arm of my guard in an apparent effort to keep from falling. As my hand grasps his arm, I think as hard as I can, putting all the truth and sincerity I can into my thoughts.

_Do not fear me, I will not betray or hurt you. Please tell me what you know._

The startled look on his face quickly is replaced by one of understanding. That too is quickly banished as the stern face of a guardsman on duty returns.

There was more passed in that contact than that thought. Much more. But at a level not conscious or even aware. The flow was not only one-way. The thoughts and feelings coming from the guard were confusing and hard to understand. But I knew I had little to fear from him. At that touch something was created, a bond almost. It was unexpected and undefinable.

Still keeping his voice low and once again standing behind me at my right shoulder, the better to keep an eye on the crowd it seemed, but it brought his voice closer to my ear as I resumed my seat on the bench.

Softly he tells me, ”I understand from my friend that Helium is taking in many of these displaced people and placing them along the canals in their empire. There to farm and harvest and make the best life they can. There are rumors that even a few thern have joined them there at Helium's canals. But my friend did not know if that was true or just manufactured misinformation.

“Now I see the leader of the Thern on the run. He is being entertained by my Jeddak, fed and protected from those that pursue him.

“Others in the advance party say that Helium, in addition to looking for their own rulers, is looking for the Holy Hekkador. The very man we now harbor.

“If there is one nation I would not want to anger right now, it is Helium. They are practically insane in their grief over losing their princess, the added loss of the Jeddak, the Jed of Lesser Helium, and John Carter. There are rumors that you are even now being held prisoner in the Temple of the Sun. You, Dejah Thoris, and another slave from the Temple of Issus.”

"Your information seems to be too complete. Are you making things up yourself?"

I was worried that he would know the identity of one of my slaves. If he put more thought into it. That or that he was a spy, but no, I knew he was not. The emotions and the feel of the man in that one touch told me he was not.

“No, no, I got most of this from the advance emissaries as we ate and drank. My friend is well connected. We have known each other for a few years, even as youths. He told me of the effort that has gone into finding the truth. Their beliefs have been severely shaken, and they wanted to know if the stories out of Helium and the others that have sent expeditions south were true. He told me that he had seen the gardens of the therns and been in the Temple of Issus and had been present when Xodar the Jeddak of the first born confirmed these stories. I hope for our sake that Helium does not find the Holy Hekkador while he is here.”

Turning my head to look up at my guard, at Akat Zemos, I saw that he was looking troubled. I assumed he must be confused by the effects of the mental contact created when I held his wrist to steady myself. By my insistence to hear the whole of the stories coming out of Ptarth.

He continued, "I should have reported my conversation, should have kept the faith." Here he looked me in the eye and the torment I saw unexpectedly touched my heart. The pain, the conflicting thoughts, and emotions running through him must have been terrible and it was only the sincerity of my thoughts as I had purposely made a connection with him that had loosened his tongue. I could now see the fear in his eyes as he looked at me, wondering if I had tricked him into revealing his doubt. His own heretical thoughts.

I could see his resolve take place, resolve to do the right thing as he had been taught all his life. To report the conversation, the officer from Ptarth, and himself.

I unthinkingly stand and reach out to stop him from doing such a foolish thing, a deadly confession in this land of the sadly mislead faithful.

He turned in surprise and raised his eyes to mine in surprise. What he saw there must have shaken him to his core. He flinched and I thought I could see the guilt reflected.

“Don't report him, and don't report yourself either” I said softly, “I command it.”

His confusion was evident in the contact I maintained as I held his arm and lifted my foot to the bench as if adjusting the strap or removing a stone from my sandal. I put as much reassurance and comfort into that contact as I could, I did not want to see another struck down by Issus's warped and cruel lies willingly propagated by my race and enforced by the courts of the nations of Barsoom.

"I would like to sit on that bench over there. It seems to get just a little more sun filtering through the leaves above us. I think I would like to feel if only briefly the warmth that might be there."

At that statement, Akat Zemos bowed and followed me to the new spot in the garden. There to take up guard once again just behind my right shoulder. He signaled the other guards of my intentions. They adjusted their crowd control to better protect the bench that was my new destination.

Oddly at peace after my conversation and mental connection with Akat Zemos. I sit in the shifting patterns of shade and light. I find myself lulled into a peaceful rumination on the warmth of the sun hitting this very spot and bathing my face in its radiant warmth.

I might have gone to sleep for a short while as my soul sought comfort and solitude in this garden. The murmur of the crowd, a good distance away, sounded no more threatening than the lapping of the water on the shores of the Korus. The presence of Akat Zemos imparted a sense of security and safety. I unconsciously relaxed in his presence. I felt my face softening, growing less tense. My body was more at ease in this strange land than it had ever been in all my years in my own temple. My temple on the shores of the Korus, surrounded by the beautiful gardens of the therns.


	66. Companionship

### Companionship

The sun moved, and my bright patch along with it. Soon enough the world again intrudes on my awareness. I rouse, look around, and see that the small crowd has again changed its faces. But now, there are two faces from this morning that I recognize. Two I would do well to remember from now on.

“I see them too,” comes from behind me as Akat Zemos notices I am awake.

He must have seen me stiffen at the sight of them.

I have too much to do to hide in the palace. If some wish to do me harm, then I would need to be better prepared.

“I have one last thing to do while I am out. It might take some time, but I need to retrieve a few things from our ship.”

I feel more than see the nod of acceptance, and soon Tam Took, Tam Eason, and Sasnor Krang are with us gathering up the goods of my shopping trip. Each slings the bags about their bodies as if they are about to go on a march. Leaving their hands free. I see that each can easily shed the baggage if needed. They are well trained in ways to carry and to fight.

We set off. Our destination is the lone landing tower. Soon enough, it comes into sight.

“Sasnor Krang and Tam Eason, stay with the bags. Tam Took and Akat Zemos come with me.”

I enter the tower and look up the long shaft until it disappears above me. The perspective almost makes it appear to be a single point at the top.

“That is a long way up there. I want the quickest way up, not the way we came before. We will take one of the floats all the way.”

“That is dangerous.” Tam Took’s voice is almost a command.

I look at her, she looks at me. She bows her head.

“I know it is more dangerous. But the risks are small, if greater than they should be, and I am in a hurry. The load on the float will be light, only carrying the three of us and what I plan to retrieve is not heavy.”

With this settled, Tam Took orders one of the floats brought from storage. Soon I am rising at a respectable speed up the shaft, much faster than the fasted lift. But even so, it takes minutes to arrive at the top.

The guards standing at the boarding ramp are surprised to see us but make no effort to impede our way as I make my way to my cabin. There I open a chest and pull out two slim blades and one longer blade, a short sword. Almost as an afterthought, I grab the bag containing my jetan pieces. The bag holds my major-pieces along with a few from my companions' sets. It is a treasure of value only to me, but I feel the need to keep them close to me. The impulse surprises me a bit, but I put it down to needing a reminder of the comfort of our time alone together. These represented so much more to me than just parts of the game. Not least since each of us had chosen to represent our fliers with our friends. My fliers had been pieces that represented Dejah Thoris and Thuvia. Each of them had made parts to represent the other two. So, two of the pieces represented Dejah Thoris, two Thuvia, and two me. The princess pieces were our mothers, Dejah Thoris and I honored the same woman, the chieftain in each set was John Carter. I thought perhaps I would now create a piece to represent my birth mother. There was a story there I did not know. Perhaps I should think kindlier of her than I have.

Stepping out onto the deck, I see the sun is almost to the horizon. The long shadow of the tower stretches out across the forest canopy. I stop to take it in. I look around at the seemingly endless forest and wonder what a planet with enough water for proper oceans would look like. Would the waves resemble the swaying tops of the trees as they move about in the breeze?

Not wanting to be on the streets in the total dark, I return to my guards. But now I carry a short sword snapped into my harness, two additional daggers tucked into sheaths along my thighs, and a bag of jetan pieces. We make our way back to the float and down to rejoin the guards left holding the bags.

I had an appointment with the priest in two days, I did not want to be unprepared if the rougher elements from this morning made another appearance. I would practice with Dejah Thoris and Thuvia for part of tomorrow. To renew my acquaintance with the blade. It had been a year since I had practiced with my temple guards. It was time to remember those lessons.

Returning to our suite at the palace, I informed my father and Thurid of my intention to eat alone. My slaves would cook and serve. After that, I would rest. My excuse was that the journey was wearing on me. I wanted to rest after my day out. Supper was about all I could deal with at the moment. If they thought anything about the extra arms hanging about my person, neither said a word.

My father nodded and agreed that it would be best to keep me and my slaves out of sight. There were rumors that a faction within Kaol was dissatisfied with the Hekkador's presence and might try to harm him or members of his party. He did look at my short sword then. Almost as if he knew why I was now wearing it.

My four guards followed me to my chambers, still carrying today's purchases. I told them to wait for a moment while I entered the rooms and shut the door.

Dejah Thoris and Thuvia look up at my entrance, welcoming questioning look on each of their faces.

"I have four guards just the other side of the door with food, drink, and much else, but I don't think they should see you."

They both nod in agreement and move deeper into the rooms, out of sight.

Returning to the door, I open it.

“Place the food over there by the fire pit. The rest can be left on those divans. I will have my slaves sort it out.”

At the mention of slaves, they look around, and I think are puzzled not to see them waiting on me already. But they say nothing.

Tam Took spoke up then, "We have been assigned to guard you for tonight. We will take it in shifts. One of your people, one of those with the rainbow diadem has been placed in charge of us. The Holy Hekkador himself has made the arrangements. He and the rest of the thern are nearby. And as you know, a contingent of guards are stationed just outside this set of rooms.“

I noticed that my father was keeping most of the thern warriors and guards with him. Indicating that he believed he would be the principal target if such a group succeeded in gaining entrance to the palace.

I watched as Tam Took instructed Tam Eason and Sasnor Krang to find a place to sleep. A small storeroom across the hall would do if it were empty enough.

I could not have them sleep there.

“No, you will stay here, in this room, the antechamber should be more comfortable. And it provides you access to other facilities if needed."

Tam Took’s look of surprise is not matched by one from Akat Zemos. He looks as if my actions have once again confirmed the information that had flowed in that contact earlier.

Knowing I could not confine my friends out of sight in this situation, I was resigned to them being seen by at least these four.

“Akat Zemos, pick up the food bags and follow me.”

I left Tam Took and the others to sort out the arrangements for sleeping in the antechamber.

I led the way to the small room that was obviously set up to prepare small meals. There I found my friends filling glasses with cool juices for seven. Had they been listening in, just out of sight. And now they were set to play to part of dutiful slaves?

No, they were filling seven glasses. Slaves would not eat with the rest. So, what were they up to?

Akat Zemos stopped at the sight of the two women. His face going a bit slack. I was almost concerned that he might have been having a seizure or stroke, but Thuvia seeing the look just smiled and pointed to where he should put the bags.

Thuvia’s voice is commanding but gentle, “We will sort the food in a while. Please take these glasses to refresh your comrades. We should have something for you to eat before half of you go to sleep.”

So, they had been listening. But there seemed to be more to it than that.

Akat Zemos did as he was instructed. Leaving balancing four glasses of my favorite yellow juice. I still did not know the names of all the local fruits. One would think I would find out the name of my favorite. But things were moving too fast and it doesn’t seem important.

“You know your shields are erratic?”

The question for Dejah Thoris seems to me to come from nowhere? My puzzled look must have served as an answer.

“Your mental shields, the ones thern seem to be naturally born with are fluctuating. And in the presence of that guard they are, shall we say leaking. I know some of what went on today, and I know you and he shares a bond. His shields too are erratic, his thoughts of you are strong and loyal. We have nothing to fear from him, and from my impressions from both your minds nor his companions either.”

"I will start preparing for the meal, but I could use some help. I think I will ask one of the guards if they will assist."

Thuvia’s declaration is meant not to interrupt but to inform. Inform Dejah and me that she will take care of the mundane.

Dejah continued, “I know that bond is strong, and I suspect you shared many things with him that both of you are unconsciously aware of. He knows you do not consider us slaves or servants. He may not realize he knows, but he knows. And since he knows, his partner also knows. The bond between warriors is almost as strong as that between joined couples. Warriors depend on each other to stay alive. They are connected almost as strongly you are connected to Akat Zemos.”

What was she saying? My bond to Akat Zemos was stronger than that between him and Tam Took? I am confused by the statements. I am afraid of the implications. And I do not have time to figure this all out. Not while I am looking to secure the safety of my friends.

Dejah sees my state of confusion and – is it denial? She relents.

“Let’s help Thuvia. We can continue at another time.”

I nod, thankful to have something useful to do with my hands and mind for a while.

The odors of roasting thoat and vegetables of various kinds found in the jungles of this strange place filled the room.

Thuvia returned with Tam Eason to find us already having set up spits with small chunks of the thoat steak.

Thuvia is not cross but confused as she spots us, “I thought you would be at it for much longer. I recruited Tam Eason here to help but now what?”

“She can help, there is plenty to do.”

Tam Eason, taken a little aback by the sight of me helping my "slave", recovers quickly. "I do most of the cooking for the team. I know their likes and dislikes. I can assemble the plates that will please each of them. Along with anything else you need. Your highness, -holiness - ahhh - Phaidor.”

She said my name with some tremble, a trepidation, in her voice. I smile, “Phaidor will do nicely while we are in these rooms. You can call me your holiness when I address you outside these walls."

She bows and nods and genuflects at the same time, not knowing what is needed. Almost a comical sight, but none there even crack a smile.

“A simple nod of understanding will do, always.”

She nods.

Soon enough we have seven plates of various items assembled, Tam Eason having selected the food for each of the guards. The rest of us picking and choosing our own.

We return to the anteroom to give Tam Took and Akat Zemos their plates, but I invite Tam Eason and Sasnor Krang back to the room with the window and the table to sit and eat with us.

The two guards are hesitant, but Akat Zemos and Tam Took motion them along with a slight smile on each of their faces. They share a secret. And I know I am the leak that provided that secret.

We five sit at the table looking out into the night. The sounds and noise seem to increase from the creatures of the forest. A slight breeze enters the unglazed window. It feels refreshingly pleasant. The fresh scent of the forest mixed with the revitalized air naturally provided by the trees. All we hear all that is said at the beginning is the noise of the night creatures. Each of us, eating and drinking fruit or wine by our own preferences. The two guards were off duty and would be fit by the time they were called on later in the night.

Finally, Tam Eason breaks the silence, “We are confused, you are the daughter of the Holy Hekkador, but you eat with your slaves?”

My friends look to me to tell whichever part of our story I choose to share.

“My ‘slaves’ have been with me a long time. I do not consider them mine. But they stay with me for protection. Those who seeing them as mine know they are protected by my father and me."

The nods of each guard tell me they understand.

Tam Eason looking intently at Thuvia but addressing the table, "It is almost always thus with long-serving slaves. They either are freed to become part of the armed forces or they become family. My own sister and I have two such companions, sisters for want of better terms.

“They were captured when they were young. A crashed airship in the forest. Most everyone dead, from Dusar. They didn’t know why they were running away from that land, but all their family were dead, and the warriors capturing them saw no reason to kill them for the transgressions of their elders.

“They were taken by my father to our household where I was fresh out of the shell. They were to be our war captives, slaves, in the traditions of all red nations. Not really ‘owned’, but not free to leave either. They became my play companions, taking care of me and my needs to relieve the burden of others in the family of my education, at least the rudimentary parts of it.

"Over time, they became more my sisters than my servants. I count them as my best friends. They do not want to return to the land they escaped from, and they have nowhere else to go. But soon I think they will want families of their own. My father is ready to set them up in their own households as cadet branches of our own."

Both Thuvia and Dejah Thoris listen and nod as they recognized a common pattern in the way war captives operated in the red nations. Many ‘slaves’ became family. Many became warriors, and a few, if wanderlust overcame them, left to become panthans in the company of their ‘owners’.” (On Jasoom, the term, I think, is mercenaries.)

It was odd for me. I sat with two Kaolian guards and two princesses and each of us ate and told stories, usually carefully edited, and laughed. Of course, my stories were the oddest as I had no one to call a childhood friend. Only my own slaves and my guards. My slaves were of a different sort than the red nations, mine were potential cattle. No hope of becoming part of the family, of being released to serve in armed services, or to be simply set after a term of service to a family. An entirely different system. In that respect, the slaves of the First Born and the slaves of the Thern were the aberrations on the planet. I think it came from each of our races considering ourselves above the rest, an entirely different species from the lower orders. I, of course, no longer viewed it that way. If anyone were lower, it was those who viewed others as objects.

After we ate, we returned to the anteroom where we found Akat Zemos and Tam Took standing guard just inside the outer door.

We bid them all good night and turned toward our sleeping chamber. Tam Eason and Sasnor Krang were settling into palates, silks, and furs that had been set up near the fire pit.

Akat Zemos stood at the door on guard across the room. His eyes were on me as I shut the bed-chamber door. There was a curious look in his eyes, a look I had never seen directed at me. I wondered if he would be there in the morning in the same place, waiting for me.


End file.
